


Flesh & Bone

by treatpeoplewithnarry



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blood, Guts - Freeform, Harry Styles - Freeform, Liam Payne - Freeform, Louis Tomlinson - Freeform, M/M, Narry - Freeform, Niall Horan - Freeform, Undead, Zayn Malik - Freeform, Zombie, Zombie AU, Zombie Apocalypse, eek, idk what to tag, injuries, ongoing, this is my first post
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29391717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/treatpeoplewithnarry/pseuds/treatpeoplewithnarry
Summary: It's been awhile since the end of the world.
Relationships: Niall Horan/Harry Styles
Comments: 7
Kudos: 42





	1. Chapter 1

Fuck me, Niall thinks to himself, digging his feet further into the ground, hoping to gain better traction on the dusty road as he runs – sprints – trying to get away from the monster following him. 

He doesn’t need to be sprinting full speed, but any form of running is tougher for Niall due to his bad knee. It’s something he thinks about daily. How his friend would be better off without a walking (or rather, running) liability next to him.

He chances a look over his shoulder, and for a split second he calms and slows his pace, the road clear behind him. 

He’s trying to quickly catch his breath, get his bearings of where he is in this small abandoned town. They were just supposed to be passing through, doing the usual runs of looking in the shops for unused supplies, as theirs were running low.

He’d convinced them to split up, now regretting it more than ever. The town was quiet and looked like it’d been abandoned for ages. Most of the storefront windows were smashed in, probably from people passing by before them, but it never hurt to take a look. 

Niall’s clutching his leg around his kneecap, catching his breath and gritting his teeth as the pain slowly seeps in, his adrenaline calming.

That is, until a low, unhuman growl catches his attention and his head snaps up back the way he came.

Not one, but three of them come stumbling out from behind the building, tripping over their own stupidly clumsy feet, and when they catch sight of Niall, pick up his sweaty, delicious scent from the soft breeze, they zero in on him. 

Really, fuck me.

Niall bites his lip as he straightens and turns away, sharp pain shooting up his leg as he feels his knee pop. Anyone else would be worried, but he knows his damn knee.

He starts up again, jogging this time, ignoring the throb in his kneecap, and reaches for the holster wrapped around his waist. He knows he won’t find anything there, having dropped his knife upon the initial scuffle when the first zombie had caught him off guard, grabbing him from behind. 

Niall had laughed, thinking it was his friend and shoved the creature off of him, but when his fingers had torn through the delicate flesh on the zombies arm, causing rotting veins and flesh to spill out over his hand he was quick to his senses. He reached for his knife, hand slick with thick, chunky blood. His grip kept slipping, and the zombie was up in an instant, pushing against Niall’s planted hand on it’s chest. 

He finally tugged the knife loose from where it was nestled in the holster, but one swipe from the zombie to Niall’s hand as he brought it up to dig it into the zombie’s head and the dagger was falling. It landed with a soft thump, a small cloud of dust puffing up and sticking to the blood. 

He’d managed to push the zombie off of him, wrestling it to the ground, but Niall didn't have time to grab his trusty knife that’s been with him from the start, before he was on his feet and side stepping away from the hand grabbing at him, and running away.

He’s unsure of which way to go, knowing only to go the direction of where his friend was, probably still searching through different shops to see if there was anything salvageable. 

The zoms don’t stop following him as he weaves in between different buildings, not quick enough to get away.

He knew his knee would be the end of him.

He runs around the corner of the building and trips, using his hands to catch him, he curses, feeling his palms scrape against the pebbles and dirt. He just prays that there’s no blood. Frantically surveying the alley, he sees a chain link fence, blocking his path.

He shakes his head, frustrated. He won’t make it over that fence with the way his knee is acting up. 

His day really can’t get any worse.

The boy flips onto his back, limbs sliding against the dusty ground, trying to get a grip. Niall’s scooting back, deathly scared as the three zombies limp closer to him, keen on getting a taste of his flesh. He thinks one of them is smiling, peeling lips torn and curled around rotting teeth, grinning at him sadistically. 

His heart is stuttering in his chest.

This is it.

He looks around frantically. There’s nothing but small rocks that could potentially be used as weapons against the two closing in on him. He swallows hard, eyes flitting back to the zombies who are moaning softly, making grabby hands at him like babies do to their mothers. 

His back hits the fence and he closes his eyes, the bright sun blaring down on them.

He’s had a pretty good run, he thinks, for someone with a leg as bad as his.  
836 days.

Just over two years since everything went to shit.

He sends a silent prayer up above – though he thinks that whoever is supposed to be watching over Earth had taken a break long ago – and hopes that his friend will be okay.

The zoms are almost on him, he curls in tighter around himself, refusing to open his eyes, because if this is how he’s going to go, the last thing he wants to see is himself being eaten.

He hears a war cry just as the long, overgrown, brittle nails scrape against his cheek. A shadow crosses his vision for a millisecond, and Niall opens his eyes. He squints against the harsh sun and watches as that zombie's arms are lobbed off, falling right onto his lap.

He shudders and quickly kicks them away as the zombies turn their attention to the new person in the alley with them. 

Niall breathes a sigh of relief when he hears laughing and taunting, “Come here, you fuckers.”

His best friend stands above him, landscape scythe in one hand and Niall’s knife in the other. The sunlight casting down over his sharp cheekbones and the menacing (and slightly crazed) smile has him looking like the angel of death.

“Louis,” Niall breathes, his head falling back against the chain link fence with relief.

The armless zombie struggles, trying to get to its feet, but ends up inchworming it’s way towards him and his savior. With one quick jab of Niall’s knife into its head, the zombie stops moving.

Louis jerks the blade from the body and dances around the other two zombies, swiftly moving behind them. Niall catches one of their attention when he stands from against the fence. Before one can turn around to face Louis, he uses the scythe, the curved blade protruding from the stomach of the zombie. Louis lifts and the body is sliced from the stomach to it’s head, splitting the damn thing in two. When it falls away it reveals a grinning Louis.

Niall grimaces at the sight. Louis had found the gardening scythe a few weeks ago and now it’s his new favorite weapon. 

“Gimme,” Niall gestures to his knife with the nod of his head, the last zombie still slowly making its way towards him. 

“You sure?” Louis cocks an eyebrow. He’s still on a high from his last kill, “I don’t mind.”

Niall lifts one shoulder, shrugging, “Be my guest.”

He lets Louis take the last one, sliding the knife easily at the base of its neck. It’s a more humane kill than the last one, and Niall’s just glad it’s over quickly.

“Don’t drop this again,” Louis says seriously, striding over the dead bodies and firmly placing the knife back in his hand and wrapping his fingers around Niall’s tightly, making sure he understands the importance of the weapon.

“Not like I was trying to,” Niall mumbles, looking down at their hands.

“I can’t lose you Ni,” Louis admits softly, looking at him with sad eyes.

The other boy sighs, “I’m no good for ya Lou, you’d be better off without me.” He wipes the blood from his blade onto his already dirty pants and nestles it back in it’s rightful spot on his belt. “M’injured.”

“Stop with that Horan.” Louis places his hands firmly on Niall’s shoulders and looks into his eyes. Niall’s vaguely aware of zombie blood dripping from his friend's blade onto his shoulder and he tries not to cringe. “You’re all I’ve got left and like hell you’re leaving me in this hellhole alone.”

He knows neither of them would be alive without the other, it’s an unspoken acknowledgement between the two, so he nods and says, “Sorry.”

“Just don’t scare me like that again,” Louis responds, removing his hands and leading the way out of the alley, “Use your words next time.”

“Didn’t want to attract more,” Niall admits, knowing that if he’d screamed for help it would put the both of them in more danger, “Ended up doing that just fine anyway.”

Louis doesn’t respond to that. He can see that Niall’s already kicking himself for what’s happened, even though the both of them are okay. He has a habit of that, blaming himself for most things that have gone wrong, always has.

“You’re limping,” Louis points out instead, “You hurt?”

“Nah, you know how the old knee is,” Niall tries to smile but it looks more like a grimace. “It’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“We should find somewhere to stop. You can rest and I’ll check out the rest of the stores. Maybe we can find you some painkillers.”

“We are not splitting up again,” Niall demands, following Louis through the broken window of a store. He winces when he lifts his leg and pain shoots up it. He looks around the dingy store and makes a face. It’s a mattress store, and they don’t know how long it’s been broken into, but by the looks of the stained and matted mattresses they can tell it’s been awhile.

Louis hums in agreement, scythe poised and ready for anything that might pop up and surprise them. Niall’s knife is gripped tightly in his left hand, ready to back up his friend without a second thought.

“There’s a clothing shop a few stores down. Untouched. Thought we could drag a mattress down there for a night. Sleep on a real bed for once,” Louis suggests and throws a grin over his shoulder towards Niall, “Maybe go on a little shopping spree.”

“It would be nice,” Niall comments, thinking about it. He frowns, looking at the disgusting mattresses around them, “If we can find one that’s decent.”

Louis rolls his eyes, “Oh, come on Nialler. Everyone knows they keep the nice ones in the back. All wrapped up and ready to go.” He raises his eyebrows at Niall in a silent question, the other boy nods, telling him that he’s got his back.

Louis pushes the door open to the storage room in the back, stacked mattresses everywhere.

“Jackpot!”

***

The pair had managed to drag a twin sized bed two stores over into the clothing shop with no trouble, Niall ignoring the pain in his leg that seemed to get worse the longer he stood on it. He’d really wanted to sleep on a real bed.

They’d shoved it as far as they could from the window at the front of the store and tore the plastic wrap off of it.

Instead of falling onto it like they wanted, they’d gone back out to search for more supplies. They’d needed water, but that was scarce to come by these days. Each had one bottle left in their bags from when they’d found a pack of unopened water bottles sitting out in the sun in front of a gas station. It probably wasn’t the best thing to be drinking from a plastic water bottle that had been sitting in the sun for who knows how long, but they didn’t have the luxury of being picky these days.

They’d seen one other zombie in the drugstore they were hoping to find some painkillers for Niall, but if the spilled pills on the ground around the zombie were anything to go by, it looked like this guy had gotten to them first.

Niall whistled to himself as he walked through the aisles, a slight limp in his step. He kicked an open bag of chips out of his way, as he searched for anything that was still usable to eat for the night.

He’d gotten used to the constant hunger pains, barely even noticing them anymore. Louis and him had learned to ration, always planning and not ever knowing when they’d find their next meal.

He’s frustrated, having walked down the food aisles three times, still coming up with nothing. The only food left was opened or had rotted a long time ago, and they didn’t need to be getting sick over spoilt food.

“Find anything?” Louis asks, back from checking the back room and moving over to where Niall was.

“A few bandages, but no food,” Niall sighs and holsters his weapon, “You?”

His friend shakes his head, “No food either, but I found these,” he tosses Niall a bottle of painkillers and Niall smiles gratefully. “Fucker didn’t get to those ones.”

“Thanks Lou.” Niall slips his backpack off of his shoulder and digs around for his last water bottle. He takes two pain pills and pops them in his mouth, swallowing them down with a swig of water. He forces himself to put the water back in his bag, not knowing when they’ll find more to drink.

They search up and down the rest of the aisles of the small store just in case, Louis becoming fascinated over a rubix cube they found still packaged up. Niall smiles softly at his friend as he tears open the packaging and mixes the colors, they both need something that reminds them of the mundane life before.

They find some chains and padlocks still hanging in their spots at the hardware store and they’re both incredibly thankful. Even though they haven’t found more food, they have a can of beans they can share, and they have new clothes and a comfortable place to sleep tonight, so today wasn’t as much of a bust as they thought. 

“Fuck,” Louis sighs after he’s settled down onto the mattress next to Niall. “Been a rough day innit?”

Niall hums in agreement, passing him the can of beans. They’ve both changed, both opting for plain white tanks and new jeans. Niall had almost cried when he found a package of unopened socks, shouting for Louis like he’d found the cure.

“S’just socks, Nialler. Calm down,” Louis had said, but he was thankful as well.

They share the beans, passing it back and forth in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. They’d packed up what they could into their bags, always keeping them ready and closeby just in case something were to happen. Their new running shoes were placed nextly next to them on their respective sides of the bed.

“Go to sleep. I’ll take the first watch,” Niall offers and who is Louis to argue?

He settles into the soft bed and is out as soon as he’s comfortable, exhausted from the events. They’re almost always tired. There’s just something about the end of the world that is so very tiring.

Niall hums to himself, checking the exits for the third time in two hours. He needs something to do, or he’ll fall asleep is what he tells himself, but Louis knows it’s because of his slight paranoia that something terrible could happen if he doesn’t continually check it. But Niall’s not wrong.

He’s checking the lock and chain on the front door when he sees movement outside of the grimy window. He shuts his mouth and immediately crouches back out of sight from the window, but still peeking to see what it is.

There’s three figures, too fast to be zombies.

It looks like two people, dragging another along between the two of them. They hurry down the street as Niall watches on. He looks the opposite way, keeping his eyes open for zombies and gripping his knife tightly, but he sees nothing.

He wonders if the person they are dragging is injured. They must be, or otherwise they’d be running alongside the other too. Niall wonders how much blood they’re leaving behind as the three find an open shop across the street and down a few from where Niall and Louis are hiding out for the night. It’s an old cafe of sorts, they’d already checked it over earlier, but he supposes it’s as good a place as any to take shelter in for the night, the window and door still intact. 

They’ll be away from the monsters at least.

Everything in the new world is a lot scarier in the dark.


	2. Day 836 (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall feels the cold metal barrel of a gun press into his temple. Okay, now he’s scared out of his wits.
> 
> “Say goodbye,” the taller boy spits at him, cocking the gun back. Niall’s heart is hammering in his chest, where the fuck is Louis?
> 
> He can’t help the little smirk that tugs at his lips as he watches the boy's green eyes widen slightly in fear as the curve of Louis’ blade coils around his neck as it rests just below his Adam's apple.
> 
> “Put the gun down,” Louis’ voice is quiet and firm, “Before I fucking slit your throat.”

He hates waking Louis, he really does.

They hardly ever get sleep these days, and for once on a mattress so soft, so inviting. Niall almost doesn’t wake him up, jealous that he won’t be able to rest on it.

“Lou?” Niall softly shakes the older boy awake.

He feels Louis’ body stiffen under his hand and that’s when Niall knows he’s awake. They’ve learned to become light sleepers, a survival tactic that was quickly picked up; that and having someone keep watch.

Louis sits up quickly, hand unconsciously reaching for his weapon as his eyes search frantically around the room, looking for signs of danger. He’s immediately on high alert.

He studies Niall for a moment, taking in his furrowed brows and how he’s tugging his lip between his teeth nervously and he knows that something isn’t right.

“What is it?” He slurs slightly. His body feels like it’s been hit with a pile of bricks, and he’s exhausted. He clears his throat and tries again, slipping his legs off of the mattress and tugging on his shoes as fast as he can. “Zoms?”

“Eh, no,” Niall scratches the back of his head, “S’people this time.”

“People?” Louis pauses, looks at Niall who nods in confirmation.

They hadn’t seen people in a long time.

“How many?”

“Three.”

“How big?”

“Bigger than us.”

“Think we could take 'em?”

“One of them is injured I think, so probably.”

Louis nods, standing. He fastens his holster around his waist tightly and nods to Niall, “Let’s go then.”

“What if they have guns Lou?” Niall wears his worry plain on his face, eyebrows drawn together and he pulls at his hair. The last time they were around humans, it didn’t end well.

“We just have to be careful,” Louis tells him, “We’ve dealt with worse. Okay?”

Niall shakes his head sadly, “Okay.”

“Ni, I don’t want to do this either,” Louis starts. He’s only half-lying. He’s never been one to trust easily, now especially. “But it’s a zom eat zom world out there, and we gotta do this to survive.”

“I know,” Niall sighs. He’s always been the more sensitive one between the two, which is why they worked well together. Ever since they were young, Louis’ always been the leader, making the decisions for the pair. He’d do anything to protect Niall.

Even if it meant killing other humans.

“Hey,” Louis says softly, placing his hands on Niall’s shoulders, “We gotta eat too, Ni.”

Niall lets out a breath and nods firmly. He knows they need food, having shared their second to last can of beans and they were low on water too. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

Niall tells Louis everything he knows about the three figures he saw run into the store across the street, pointing out the window. 

“Louis,” Niall grabs his friend's arm as he’s stepping out into the street. “What if he’s bit?”

“Then he should be happy about what we’re going to do,” Louis doesn’t miss a beat.

He leads the way out the back of the clothing store. The door creaks and they cringe, but Niall’s ready, knife raised, watching Louis back for zombies. The older boy shoves the door shut quickly, cursing at the noise. It’s not noisy, and he knows the people holed up across the block won’t hear them, but it’s so loud compared to the eerily silent night.

“C’mon,” he whispers, taking the lead like he usually does. 

They walk along the back alley as silently as they can. He notices Niall limping slightly next to him and a sense of guilt washes over Louis. He should have let Niall rest first, but he gave into his selfishness too easily today, and let Niall take the first watch. 

His steps falter for a second and he’s almost turning to usher Niall back into the safety of the abandoned clothing store, but he shakes his head. They need to do this.

It’s a quick walk to the back of the cafe. Both boys are on edge, adrenaline pumping once more. Niall’s heart is hammering in his chest, he’s trying to keep his breathing shallow and quiet, but the mere thought of what they’re about to do scares him.

“Alright Ni?”

Only then does he realize Louis was whispering the plan to him. “What?”

His friend lets out a frustrated breath. Leave it to Niall to miss the plan. 

He tries to calm himself, but he’s pissed. He hadn’t gotten any sleep, they’re in constant danger, and Niall isn’t helping by not listening. 

He knows he should give the younger the benefit of the doubt, but in such a time like this he can’t be bothered.

“You’re going first, up there,” he points impatiently to the fire escape, “Wait for me and we’ll sneak in through the window, see? It’s already open.” Niall squints up to the second floor, where indeed, the window is missing. “Then we’ll split up. Hopefully they’ll be sleeping and it’ll be an easy kill. We go through their stuff and we’re outta here. Got it?”

“Got it,” Niall whispers back. He tucks his knife into his belt and Louis is there, helping boost him up to the lowest rung, the bottom half of the ladder having been broken off (or rusted away, he’s not sure).

He struggles, pulling himself up, and his arms are burning by the time he’s caught his balance on the bottom rung. He looks down at Louis, who’s looking around the alley to make sure it’s still clear. When he looks back up to Niall and sees him frozen in place, he’s frantically waving his hand to get his ass moving.

Niall makes his way up the ladder as silently as he can. When the ladder groans under his weight, he pauses and holds his breath. Hearing no movement from inside and no more creaks from the rusting ladder, he continues on. He only lets out the breath he was holding when the ladder turns into stairs. 

He looks over the railing and waves Louis up.

The boy on the ground backs up a few steps before he’s sprinting forward and jumping to grab onto the first rung of the ladder. He’s always been very athletic, even before the end, so it’s a fairly easy task. 

He pulls himself up with ease and Niall’s jealous at his friends ability to move so swiftly and silently.

Louis nods to Niall, a silent agreement of what they have to do.

They pull out their weapons, and then Louis is slipping into the window. 

Niall follows closely behind.

He’s only just pulled his other foot inside of the room before someone’s knocking his knife out of his hand and slamming him up against the wall, a hand clasped around his throat. 

His breath catches in his throat – not only from the firm grip someone has around his esophagus – but also because of the boy the hand belongs to. 

The boy towers over him, easily almost a whole head taller than him and Louis. The moonlight casts through the open window, illuminating his features. His plump lips are set into a firm line, and his eyes are blazing with anger and what Niall thinks might also be fear. His long hair is pulled away from his face by the banana he’s got wrapped around his head. 

He knows he should be scared out of his whitts, but if he’s dying he’s glad it’s by this handsome man in front of him and not the hand (teeth) of a zom. 

Niall feels the cold metal barrel of a gun press into his temple. Okay, now he’s scared out of his whitts.

“Say goodbye,” the taller boy spits at him, cocking the gun back. Niall’s heart is hammering in his chest, where the fuck is Louis?

He can’t help the little smirk that tugs at his lips as he watches the boy's green eyes widen slightly in fear as the curve of Louis’ blade coils around his neck as it rests just below his Adam's apple.

“Put the gun down,” Louis voice is quiet and firm, “Before I fucking slit your throat.”

Niall watches the boy think through his options. He swallows hard and Niall follows the slow trail of blood from the nick in his neck down to where it gets soaked up by the collar of his dark shirt.

The gun is removed from his head and he grabs it before Louis can tell him to. Niall shuffles back a few steps and lifts it with his shaking hands, aiming right at the attractive lad's head.

“Don’t make any sudden moves,” Louis demands.

“No, you don’t make any sudden moves,” a new voice says, startling them. Another boy enters the room, his gun raised and aimed at Louis. He’s bigger than the boy that was pinning him to the wall, not in height, but in bulk. His hair was cut close to his head and for a second Niall’s jealous, so desperately wanting his hair cut.

Niall immediately turns his gun to point at the other boy, but he spares a nervous glance to Louis, who’s gaze hasn’t left the boy he’s holding captive. That’s what they want him to do. Draw his attention so that the tall lanky one can slip out of his grasp and take him down.

“You shoot him and I shoot you. Then I shoot your friend,” Niall finds himself saying. The evenness of his voice surprises even him.

The boy with the gun seems stumped for a moment before he turns his gun on Niall. “Then I’ll kill you.”

“And I’ll kill curly,” Louis responds with a roll of his eyes.

“Do it Liam,” the tall one says harshly, like he’d do anything to keep the other boy safe.

“What? I’m not letting them kill you Harry,” the boy – Liam – says desperately. 

The tall one pinches the bridge of his nose, “For fuck’s sake Liam–”

“No,” he cuts his friend off.

Their banter is annoying and Niall’s beginning to think it’s some sort of way to distract him and Louis, because there are three of them.

He jumps into action, taking a step closer to Harry. He ignores Liam’s gun pointed at him.

“Go get his gun,” he tells Louis who has a questioning look on his face.

His friend doesn’t think about what Niall’s asking, he just does. He’ll ask later.

He pushes Harry away from him, the taller boy only moves a step closer to Niall, and he turns towards Liam with the gun. It’s still pointed at Niall, but as soon as Louis takes a step closer to him, he moves it to Louis. 

Niall’s gaze flicks to the boy holding a gun on his best friend. He’s deflated a little, no longer standing intimidated, his chest puffed out. With the quick glance he takes he can see the tremor in his hands and the fear in his eyes, despite the edge to his voice.

“Lou, get the gun. He’s not going to shoot you,” Niall says, calmly returning his gaze to Harry who’s watching him with narrowed eyes.

“Like hell I won’t,” Liam squeaks as Louis takes another cautious step forward. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Lou,” Niall says sternly. He’s not fucking around, not this time.

“How do you know Ni?” Louis questions, clearing his throat a little. 

I know because I’m not capable of shooting either.

“Because if he does it I kill his friend, then him, then their friend downstairs.”

Both boys turn to look at Niall. Clearly they didn’t know that they’d seen them dragging their friend across the town. 

Louis takes Liam being caught off guard as a chance to lurch forward and grab the gun from his hands. 

Only Liam’s too quick and pulls the trigger.


	3. Day 836 (Part 3):

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Niall holds his hands up in surrender, “Can I take a look?”
> 
> “I said we don’t want your fucking help.” Harry’s trying hard to sound hateful, but there’s a tinge of despair hiding behind the malice.
> 
> “Uh, Haz,” Zayn whispers, his eyes drooping closed, “I’d kind of like some help.”

“Louis,” Niall calls out frantically, “Louis!” 

This can’t be happening, he can’t lose Louis.

He sees red for a moment, anger seeping into his system and he’s about to pull the trigger on Harry but a voice stops him.

“I’m okay Niall,” Louis says. He’s shaken, but the bullet hasn’t hit him. It’s embedded in the floor next to his foot.

Niall breathes a sigh of relief. He just wants to get the hell out of here.

“Haz? Li?” someone calls from somewhere outside of the room. The voice sounds scared and strained, like he’s struggling to get to where they are. “You guys okay?”

“Stay away Zayn,” Liam calls, “We’re taking care of it.”

“Yeah, and a great job you’re doing,” Louis spits, “The place has got to be surrounded by now, and if it isn’t yet, it will be soon.”

As if on cue, they all fall silent and they hear the low groans and cries from the street down below, filling with roaming zombies that had been attracted to the noise. Niall takes a chance and glances out the window. He can barely make them out but there are more than a few zombies stumbling around in the alley, searching for the noise.

He shakes his head, and looks to Louis who has backed off of Liam a few steps. His landscaping scythe still clutched firmly in his hand.

“I heard a gunshot. What’s going on?” A third boy enters the room. His weight is pressed heavily against the wall and the other four boys in the room can see that he shouldn’t be moving at all. He favors his left leg, the right ripping his body with intense pain everytime he moves it even slightly, but he had to see if his friends were okay.

“Zayn,” Harry scolds. There’s a worried tone to his voice and he looks at Niall, gaging how he’s going to react if he moves over to help his friend. “You shouldn’t be moving.”

“Louis,” Niall beckons his friend over with a nod of his head before he motions towards Zayn with the gun in his hand. He meets Harry’s eyes and murmurs, “Help him.”

Louis and Harry move around each other, keeping as far away from the other as possible. Niall keeps his weapon trained on Liam (while the stocky boy’s is still aimed at him) as Harry helps their friend lie down on the floor, whispering to him furiously.

“Gimme a smoke,” Zayn requests breathily. He’s got one arm curled over his eyes; hiding his tears probably.

“Zayn,” Harry scolds, “Shut the hell up.”

“If m’gonna die, let me have one last smoke.”

“You’re not going to die.”

At least they hope he won’t.

Nevertheless, he pulls a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket, pulls one of the last three out, and places it between Zayn’s parted lips. He digs around in Zayn’s front pocket and tugs out the lighter, flicking it on and burning the end of the cigarette.

Zayn takes a slow drag, calming his nerves only slightly. He finally removes his face from the crook of his elbow and gazes over to Niall and Louis, who are watching them curiously.

“Hey,” he exhales the smoke with a sigh, “M’Zayn.”

Louis and Niall share a glance.

“Fuck,” Harry hisses, “He’s delirious.” He noticed the trail of blood on the floor from where Zayn had stumbled into the room. Liam had used his belt to make a tourniquet for his leg, but it wasn’t tight enough. They hadn’t been able to get the wound to stop bleeding.

“No, m’not,” Zayn murmurs. He presses the cigarette out on the floor after another drag and hands it to his friend, mumbling something about making sure not to lose it. He lets his hand fall limply to the floor. He’s so tired, not sure how much longer he can keep his eyes open.

“He’s injured,” Niall says, dumbly.

“No shit,” Harry spits, and tries to tighten Liam’s loose belt up over Zayn’s knee.

Niall ignores him and looks at Liam, “How bad is it?”

“Pretty bad,” Liam admits, sadly. He tries not to notice Harry’s blazing eyes and rigid demeanor. If there’s a chance that these two strangers can help their friend, then it’s a risk he’s willing to take.

“I can help him,” Niall offers. He hates seeing people in pain, it makes him ache. He’s soft, and he knows it. He’s surprised he’s managed to survive this long.

“No, you can’t,” Louis says quickly, giving him a look. “And even if you could, you wouldn’t.”

“We don’t want your help anyway.”

Niall places a hand on his friends shoulder, moving them back a few steps. 

“I can help him Louis, we can help him,” he whispers.

“No fucking way Ni. They almost just put a bullet through me. Does that mean anything to you?”

“Of course it means something to me,” he responds, exasperated. His gun falters slightly as Louis steals his attention, but he reminds himself and checks on the other three, Liam still holding his hand up, gun aimed their way. His gaze flickers to his hurt friend and to where Harry is trying to make things better. “Just let me do this.”

“Why should I?”

“Because we might just all make it out of here alive.”

Louis studies Niall. He knows that his friend would do anything to save someone, but they can’t afford another risk like this. Not after last time.

But one pleading look from those big baby blue eyes and his confidence falters. He sighs softly to himself, and slowly takes the gun from Niall, gaze hard on the three in front of him as he grumbles to himself about Niall being the end of him. 

Niall holds his hands up in surrender, “Can I take a look?”

“I said we don’t want your fucking help.” Harry’s trying hard to sound hateful, but there’s a tinge of despair hiding behind the malice.

“Uh, Haz,” Zayn whispers, his eyes drooping closed, “I’d kind of like some help.”

“Fine,” Harry sits back, defeated. He can’t let Zayn die. “Help him.”

“You two get back against the wall then,” Louis demands, waving his gun towards the empty wall near the door. “That’s the only way he’ll help him. If you let him alone.”

Harry looks at Liam, not liking the idea one bit. When Liam’s only response is a shrug, he sighs. He reluctantly releases his hold on the belt and stands to move where he was directed, but Niall’s speaking up.

“Move him under the window, there’s more light.”

Liam watches their backs as Harry moves Zayn into the moonlight casting into the room. He winces and mutters an apology everytime Zayn whimpers because of the pain.

“Sit,” Louis waves his gun at them when Harry moves next to Liam. He begrudgingly does. “Go ahead Ni.”

Only then does Niall move towards the injured boy, his slight limp doesn’t go unnoticed by Harry. He lets his backpack slip off of his shoulder and rest on the floor next to him. He knows the hurt leg, and sees a tear in the jeans where a large gash is still seeping blood.

When Harry sees Niall pull out the knife from his belt his stomach plummets, thinking the worst. He starts to rise, “Hey, don’t you dare–”

“Sit the fuck down curly,” Louis growls.

Niall ignores them all. He knows Louis will protect him, and no matter what, he’ll make the right decision. They’re both in savior mode, Louis protecting Niall, and Niall helping the boy in front of him.

He gingerly cuts at Zayn’s pants, who hisses when the skinny jeans are ripped away from his wound. The pain is searing hot and he nearly passes out. He whimpers again, but it’s loud and Niall cringes and hopes that it doesn’t draw more attention. 

“You gotta be quiet okay,” Niall asks him, pushing his matted down hair away from his forehead and looking into the boy's eyes. He can see clearly just how scared Zayn is, “Can you do that for me?”

His blue eyes hold promise and his posture exudes confidence. Zayn trusts that he can help him.

“Yeah,” he breathes, “I can try.”

“Okay,” Niall whispers, wiping at the boy’s brow gently, as if to soothe the stranger. He looks up at the other two, sitting backs against the wall, watching warily. “Where are your supplies.”

They look away, ashamed. It’s Liam who speaks, “We uh, we don’t have any.” Harry winces next to him.

“Nothing?” Niall’s words are an echo; shocked. He bites his lip harshly, “That’s okay, we’ve got–”

“No Niall, we’re not wasting our supplies on him,” Louis tells him, clenching his jaw. They barely have enough for the two of them to survive. 

“Lou–”

“I said no.” 

Niall reaches for his bag anyways, tearing the zipper open, “Fuck, I’m not letting him die.”

Louis is seething, “You think they’d extend the same courtesy if it were you? Come on Niall. Think.”

Niall shakes his head, digging out the painkillers and spare bandages he has stuffed in there. “Doesn’t matter. It’s not like that.”

Louis wants so badly to run over to Niall and rip the damn backpack from his hands. He wants to gather their things, and shove Niall out the window back the way they came. He wants to be back in the safety of the clothing store, asleep.

He’s made a terrible choice coming here tonight.

“Zayn,” Niall asks softly, trying to get the boy’s attention. He’s fading out fast, the blood loss finally creeping up on him. He’s had a long day, and he just wants to say, “Fuck it,” and drift off into sleep, or whatever it is that comes after this. But Niall’s calling for him, and he’s prying his eyes open. There’s two of Niall in front of him, and he blinks a few times, trying to get his vision straight.

“Can you lean up a little? I’m going to give you some painkillers and some water.”

Harry’s mouth feels incredibly dry at the mention of water. They hadn’t eaten or drank any water since yesterday. His tongue moves inside his mouth unconsciously as he watches the brunet help his friend.

He’s a little jealous.

He watches the boy work, searching through his bag when he needs something else to help their friend. He watches the muscles move beneath the boy’s tank top, the sweat glistening on his skin.

Zayn falls asleep shortly after he’s given the painkillers. Harry’s surprised when Niall pulls out a first aid kit that looks like it’s bursting with supplies. He won’t ever say this out loud, but he’s glad these two sought after them tonight.

He stitches the gash in Zayn’s leg up after doing his best to disinfect the wound. They aren’t sewn the straightest, but he’s done his best, and he takes pride in that. He applies ointment from the kit, and although it’s expired, he hopes it’ll still help, and then he wraps it up nicely, before he stuffs his things back into his bag and moves towards Louis who is still shooting him a disapproving look. 

Liam drops the gun into Harry’s lap, quickly moving towards where Zayn lies, unmoving on the floor. He checks the boy’s pulse – an instinct more than anything, you can’t trust anyone these days – before he’s sitting back, ass resting on his heels, and his shoulders releasing most of the tension he’d been carrying around since Zayn was injured. 

“Thank you,” he chokes out, and he won’t look towards the two strangers on the other side of the room, because they can’t know that a few tears have escaped his eyes.

They seem to know, anyways.

“Let’s go Niall,” Louis tells him. He’s let Niall help them, as much as he didn’t want him too, and now it’s time for them to go. 

“There’s too many zoms out there, how will we get out?” the younger boy questions.

He hates when Niall questions him. He doesn’t know how they’ll get out of where they’ll be able to go, but he knows they can’t stay here, because he doesn’t trust the boys in front of them.

“You can stay here,” Liam suggests, turning to face them. Harry’s about to protest, but Liam speaks quickly again, cutting him off, “They’ll have scattered by morning.”

“No way we’re staying here with you. It’s probably less safe than going out there.”

“We’ll give you the other gun.”

“Like hell we will.” Harry wants to yell, he wants to scream at Liam for how stupid he’s being; they’re being. They’ve already let a stranger patch their friend up. This is as far as he’s willing to go.

“If it makes them feel safer, we’ll do it.”

“That’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve heard in my life Liam. I’m not giving them this gun.”

“Why not?”

“They’ll kill us with it.”

“We won’t,” Niall chimes in. Louis mumbles something that Harry can’t quite catch, but by the way Niall elbows him harshly, he’s thinking he wouldn’t like whatever he said. Harry narrows his eyes at them.

“Like I believe that.”

“Keep it. We’re staying, but only until it’s safe. Okay Lou?”

The older boy doesn’t respond, but he lets Niall pull him to the wall opposite the three boys. Once his back touches the wall, he takes off his bag, rolls his shoulders, and sags down the wall until he’s sitting. He’s still on high alert.

The tension in the room is thick, Louis glares at Harry, and Harry returns the look.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees Niall rubbing at his knee, wincing. His shoulders fall a bit, worried for his friend. He needs Niall to stop drawing attention to his knee, they don’t need to know he’s injured too.

“Niall,” he murmurs, “Take your painkillers and go to sleep.”

Niall doesn’t argue, he doesn’t have the energy. He unzips his bag, sifting through his things before he feels the hard plastic of the container. He scoops two out and places them on his tongue, following them with a single gulp of water. He notices Harry swallowing hard, eyes never leaving the bottle as Niall takes his sip.

He returns the pills into the safety of his bag, caps the water bottle, and rolls it across the room. The sound of it rolling is deafening against the silent room. Before the bottle stops at Harry’s feet, he’s already settled in, back against the wall and using his backpack for a pillow, and he’s asleep.


	4. Day 837:

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No, we can’t. We can barely feed ourselves, we don’t need two more mouths to feed. Plus, they have one of our guns.”
> 
> “Yeah, and like only four bullets,” Zayn huffs, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest.
> 
> “That’s enough to kill all of us and have one left over,” Harry says, looking in the rearview mirror to meet Zayn’s gaze. His voice softens, “We almost lost you Zayn, I won’t let that happen again.”

At first light, Louis wakes Niall.

He hadn’t slept since he’d been woken up at the clothing store before they’d come over here and gotten into this predicament. 

But he’d been wide awake all night. They hadn’t seen other humans in a long time and they could trust other people less than they could trust a zom.

He’d kept his eyes on the other boys, mostly Harry, who seemed to be in the same position as he. The unspoken leader, who was willing to miss a night of sleep to protect his friends.

At least there were three of them. They got to sleep even longer than he or Niall would because they’d split the night between the three of them instead of two.

Louis had thought that Harry would wake Liam at some point to take over for him, but he thinks that maybe he didn’t because he didn’t want to seem weak. He wanted to outlast Louis. That, and if he let Liam keep watch he’d surely try and make friends with the other boy.

Niall wakes quickly. He’s alert and his heart is racing. He’d been having the same nightmare since the beginning of the end, but this time it was slightly different. He scrambled around, he grimaces when pain shoots up his knee, but he’s looking for Louis. He has to make sure he’s okay.

Louis brakes the stare off with Harry, his brows furrowing in worry over Niall. It never gets easier seeing him so worried and scared over something that hasn’t happened. 

Niall clutches his friend's leg, terrorized and struck with fear. He’s panicking, breathing labored and fingers fumbling across Louis clothed legs. Louis immediately knows what’s wrong and he curses under his breath. 

Niall used to have panic attacks all of the time in the beginning. Louis could help him through most of them and with the help of his inhaler it was never really a problem, but the inhaler had run out long ago, and Louis remembers the panic attack Niall had had from finding out the inhaler was empty. It was the worst one he’s had. 

“Hey, Niall,” he puts a hand on his friend's shoulder, whilst keeping an eye on a curious looking Harry. “You’ve got to calm down bud, I’m okay. You’re okay. We’re okay.”

He hates that Harry’s watching this unfold. He’ll think Niall’s weak, this and his leg. They’ll think he’s an easy target.

The blond (now brunette) is anything but.

“Lou,” he’s still struggling to breathe, and he’d forgotten that they weren’t alone until he sees Louis’ gaze flick up to someone across the room. Then it hits him.

He faces the wall, not wanting the other boys to see him. Niall knows Louis has his back covered. He can’t show them this point of weakness. He’s got to calm down.

He does what he usually does; some breathing techniques that he and Louis had practiced, but he’s also got his fingers wrapped around Louis’ wrist, feeling his steady pulse also helps him calm down.

Harry watches the scene unfold. He’s intrigued by the dynamic of the two, Louis brooding and stubborn, while Niall seems almost the complete opposite. They both can take charge and the other will listen, no questions asked. He wished his friends would do the same, but Liam and Zayn always seemed to disagree with Harry, opting for the more humane way of doing things, where Harry would do anything to make sure he and his friends were okay, even if it wasn’t the most compassionate. 

He watched Niall, his back turned away, knowing that if Harry saw the look on his face he’d think he was too fragile and weak for this new world. A smart tactic, Harry thinks.. A part of him can’t help but wonder if the panicking boy is okay. 

“You okay?” Louis asks lowly so Harry won’t hear. Niall’s calmed down a bit now, but his eyes are still clenched shut and Louis can see how hard he’s clenching his jaw. His friend nods anyway, forcing his body to relax.

“‘M good.” 

Niall unzips his bag, grabbing the pill bottle rested on the top and he shakes two out. His knee is in even more pain the longer he stays in this crouched spot, and he prays that he and Louis can find somewhere safe enough where they can stay for a few nights and rest up.

Being on the move constantly wasn’t ideal.

He swallows the pills down dry since he gave his water to the boys across the room last night and he doesn’t want to open his last one, not knowing when he’s going to need it next.

He follows Louis' lead and stands. Harry scrambles to his feet and kicks a foot out, catching Liam in the stomach. The bulky boy groans but sits up, reading the room.

“We’ll be going now,” Louis tells them. He waves the gun towards Zayn who’s still asleep under the windowsill, “Move him.”

Liam reacts quicker then, making his way over to Zayn to check on him and have him scoot away. 

“Louis,” Niall captures his friend's attention, not drawing attention from the other boys. He remembers how they got up last night, and the jump up wasn’t nearly as landing hard on his feet will be when they leave, “I don’t know if I can make that jump.”

“Shit.” The older boy bites his lip and furrows his brows, “We’ll have to check the front.”

“Maybe we should let them go first? Leave after?” Niall suggests, eyeing Zayn who tries to smother a groan while Liam tries to move him.

“They’ve got to go downstairs too. The injured one wouldn’t make it.”

“If he was bleeding as much as I noticed last night, there could still be zoms out there.”

“Oi! What are you two whispering about?” Harry demands, his eyes narrowed and his gun shifts back and forth between the two.

“Nothing,” Louis responds, “We’ll be going now.”

He lets Niall lead the way towards the exit to the room, his weapon poised and ready to shoot if any of them try something funny. 

“Wait,” Zayn gasps, slowly rising to his feet. He hobbles towards them, using the wall for support, and ignores his friend pleas for him to stop. He raises his hands in surrender when he gets near Louis, silently asking for permission for him to pass and move to Niall. With a sigh and a glare from Louis, he nods slightly, stepping aside to let Zayn stumble up to Niall.

“I wanted to thank you,” Zayn smiles sheepishly at Niall, “You saved my life.”

Niall places a hand on the boy's shoulder and returns Zayn’s smile with a small one of his own. “No need to thank me. Be careful out there,” he looks at each boy in turn.

“We will,” Zayn nods. He wants to say something more. He doesn’t think that they should let these boys leave. He’s got a gut feeling that they’d fit in well with them, and well, who doesn’t need someone who can patch up wounds like Niall can?

But he knows Harry (and probably Louis) would never let that happen, so he bites back the words on the tip of his tongue and turns to make his way back to his friends.

“Wait,” Niall calls after him. Zayn turns back, trying his best to keep his weight off of his bad leg, and raises his eyebrow. 

Maybe Niall feels the same way he does.

But Niall just unzips his pack and takes the bottle of painkillers out. He closes the space between them easily. “Here, hold out your hands.”

Zayn doesn’t question him, cupping his hands in front of him. Niall pours half of the bottle of pills in his hands and Louis looks furious but he stays silent.

“Take two when the pain gets too much,” Niall explains, capping the bottle and tossing it back into his bag. He shrugs meekly, “I don’t have another container.”

“It’s okay,” Zayn nods, gratefully, “Thank you.”

Niall nods, his blue eyes shining. His gaze flicks to Harry, then Liam, and then back to Zayn. He’s trying to burn the image of these three boys into his mind. He looks like he’s got something else to say, but he shakes his head and turns, leading the way out of the room.

Louis follows, walking backwards to keep an eye on the three he still considers threats. He’s about to leave the room, but he has parting words for them.

“Follow us, and I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

***

“Lou, seriously, you can’t ignore me forever,” Niall whines, following Louis up the abandoned highway.

Louis was still furious with the events of last night. He knew going there in the first place was his idea, and a bad one at that, but they needed supplies and he thought it’d be an easy kill. He didn’t think that Niall was going to be so eager to play nurse with the strangers.

“Shut up and be alert,” Louis growls, scanning the abandoned cars for any signs of movement. 

It’d been hours since they left the town and the boys behind. The sun was now blazing overhead. They were both sweating profusely and overheated. They’d need a break soon.

“Fine,” Niall grumbles and readjusts his grip on his knife. He hated when Louis was mad at him. He understood why, but Niall couldn’t let Zayn bleed out in front of them, especially when they had done no wrong to them. 

He didn’t even want to leave. They’d be better in a group of five rather than two smaller groups, both with injured members, but he knew better than to voice that thought to Louis.

He glances inside of the cars they pass when they’ve deemed them clear, searching for anything they can use. When he finds nothing, they continue onto the next car.

It’s an hour later and they are nowhere near deserving a break when they hear a low rumble coming from behind them. Both boys spin around at the sound. Niall quints, raising a hand to block the sun from his face as he tries to see. Louis looks around frantically, searching for somewhere to hide, but the road is empty now, and they stand on a bridge, so there’s no brush around for them to hide in. He clutches the gun in his hand tightly.

It’s a big van, and the closer it gets Niall can see that it’s one of those retro Volkswagon ones. It’s dirty and there are smears of blood on it, but he thinks he can see the pink paint underneath.

Of all of the free cars there are now, these people chose that one?

“Be ready,” Louis tells him. His stance is rigid and he’s ready to shoot and aim at the drop of a hat. 

Niall tenses as the car nears, but they’re both shocked when the vehicle doesn’t stop and they see a smirking Harry in the driver's seat.

The pair watch, dumbfounded as he drives off, kicking up dust with the wheels and then they’re alone again.

“What a prick.”

***

“Harry, stop the car!”

“Are you crazy? No fucking way am I stopping the car for them,” he retorts with a roll of his eyes. He presses the gas pedal down further.

“They saved my life,” Zayn defends, “We could use people like them.”

“No, we can’t. We can barely feed ourselves, we don’t need two more mouths to feed. Plus, they have one of our guns.”

“Yeah, and like only four bullets,” Zayn huffs, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest.

“That’s enough to kill all of us and have one left over,” Harry says, looking in the rearview mirror to meet Zayn’s gaze. His voice softens, “We almost lost you Zayn, I won’t let that happen again.”

“But Niall saved me,” Zayn pleads, “I know you don’t think so, but that's a skill we don’t have. If something happens again, we might not be so lucky.”

Harry’s hands tighten on the steering wheel and his knuckles turn white, “It’s not going to happen again.”

“Liam, help me out here,” the dark haired boy pleads.

“I’m impartial,” Liam says. He’s not. He thinks that they could use the other two as well, that they’ll all be stronger and safer together, but he also knows where Harry’s coming from. He and Zayn are the only ones Harry trusts, and he can’t blame him for the way that he is. 

“Of course you are,” Zayn rolls his eyes.

The rest of the ride is in silence.


	5. Day 837 (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How attached are you to that record player?”

Harry slams his hands against the steering wheel and groans in frustration. “Dammit!”

“I told you to stop when you saw all those cars by Niall and Louis,” Liam rolls his eyes, checks their surroundings quickly and makes sure the coast is clear, before pushing the passenger door open to get out and stretch his legs, “but no. You wanted to be a funny guy and brag about having a car when they have to walk. Now look where we are!” He stretches his arms over his head, his shirt riding up a little to show the smooth strip of skin above the waistline of his pants. He tries to keep his voice low because Zayn is getting some much needed rest in the backseat.

The curly haired boy grumbles and grabs for the shotgun he keeps nestled between the door and his leg. He swings the door open and jumps out of his seat whilst checking to see if the shotgun is loaded, even though he knows it is. 

He kicks his door shut, annoyed with himself. Liam was right - not that Harry would ever admit it out loud. He couldn’t be taking these risks all because he wanted to show off a little, he should be more worried about his friends than his ego.

Liam winces at the harsh sound of Harry’s door clanging shut. The last thing they need is to draw the attention of zombies while they’re stranded and Zayn’s injured. 

“How was I supposed to know that there wouldn’t be any more cars around?” He asks, snapping the barrel back into place before he meets Liam around the back of the van. He checks their surroundings as best he can, the dense trees making it hard to see. He can’t hear anything, so he deems it safe for now, but he stays alert and ready as always.

Liam grunts to show his annoyance with the younger boy, choosing not to respond. Instead, he pulls the doors open and they're met with a confused Zayn who’s sitting up and rubbing at his eyes.

“We there yet?” 

“Where?” Harry asks, climbing into the back and reaching under Zayn’s seat, sliding out the box they stow their bullets in. 

“Oh,” he scoots up so that he can lean against the window, “Right, I forgot we have no destination planned.” He shuts his eyes and grimaces when he shifts his leg the wrong way and it stings uncomfortably.

“Never really do,” Harry replies aimlessly, counting the rounds and shoving them into his pocket.

Zayn peeks an eye open to watch him, “Where ya headed?”

“We ran out of gas. Might as well do a little scavenging until we find some more.” Harry climbs out the back of the van past Liam who is leaning up against one of the doors, arms crossed over his chest and watching him with his mouth set in a firm line.

“We’re out of gas?”

“Yeah, dumbass here didn’t stop when I told him, and funnily enough, we ran out,” Liam shakes his head and laughs lightly, grabbing a pistol that was sat in a crate under the bench seat.

“You going to make fun of me the whole time we’re out then, aren’t you?” Harry sighs, looking from his left to his right, trying to decide which way to go.

“I wouldn’t be your friend if I let you live this down without making fun of you at least a little,” Liam winks and gives him a cheeky grin in return.

“You gonna be okay here Z?” He asks, turning to the onyx haired boy.

He nods from his seat, eyes still shut, “Yup. Locked doors, all the weapons and food I need? Pretty sure I’ll be okay. I still think we should all go together though.” 

“You’re too slow and we can’t afford for your wound to open up again,” Harry responds.

“It’d be fine if Niall were here to patch me up again,” Zayn mumbles sourly. 

Harry ignores his friend, “We shouldn’t be gone too long. Just going to check out the perimeter, see if there’s anything useful. If there’s not, we continue on the road.”

“Don’t forget your radio,” Zayn reminds, tossing a walkie talkie to Liam who snatches it out of the air and clips it to his belt. “And be careful,” he adds seriously.

“We will. Love you mate,” Liam nods.

“Love you too. Both of you,” Zayn looks at Harry.

Harry rolls his eyes, “I love you too, you sap. Liam, wipe your tears and let's go.”

Liam shoves his shoulder and shuts the door after one last worried glance at Zayn. He knows that they have the harder job, going out into the woods where they could potentially attract a horde of zombies, but he doesn’t like splitting up. 

As much as he’s trying not to be mad at Harry, he can’t help the part of his mind telling him to curse the brunet out for not stopping for gas like he’d asked. Running out of fuel was not something they could afford to happen, because when it did, they put themselves at risk.

Now Zayn was sitting alone in the van, injured and with no gas. Of course, he had weapons and food, plenty of bullets as well, but he couldn’t help but think the worst. He knew Zayn could handle his own, but if something managed to happen, he didn’t know what they’d do.

But he keeps his mouth shut, they don’t need to have a loud argument that could attract the attention of unwanted creatures, so he trudges behind Harry, gun in a tight grip and ears perked up, listening to the crunch of the ground beneath their feet. 

Harry doesn’t mind the silence as they walk. As much as he knows it’s necessary, he knows that Liam is not happy with him about what he’d done. He just didn’t want Niall and Louis to think that he was going to stop to let them in. He didn’t want his friends to act all buddy-buddy with them. They couldn’t trust anyone these days, no matter how well his friends thought they’d fit into their group. 

But when he’d driven past Niall and seen him limping, Harry couldn’t help but feel bad for the poor boy, knowing how it was for Zayn to be hobbling around on his injury for as long as he did.

He couldn’t seem to get Niall’s face out of his mind in general.

“Haz,” Liam hisses softly, noticing a zombie tripping slowly towards them. He raises his gun but doesn’t shoot, knowing that the loud noise would attract more.

Because when there’s one, there’s more nearby.

Harry gives him a quick nod, telling him that they should turn back the way that they came, to get back to Zayn as quickly as possible because it is not safe, but when they turn around, there’s another zombie blocking the way.

“Shit,” Harry mutters under his breath. Liam and him share a quick glance and Liam nods in silent agreement to lead the zombies away from Zayn. 

“Ready?” He asks as another comes into view. He bites his lip and raises his weapon cautiously, but both of them know not to shoot unless it’s absolutely necessary. 

“Run,” Liam responds and takes off, Harry close on his heels. They run swiftly and lightly on their feet, but the ground is uneven. It's hard to watch their steps and they know they’re drawing the attention of the zombies because their grunting gets louder at every noise they make. 

It’s when Harry trips over an exposed root and he falls to the ground harshly, his gun popping off a shot, that they know they’re fucked.

“God damnit Harry,” Liam yells, halting his sprint and grabbing Harry underneath his arms, hoisting the boy to his feet. The taller boy stumbles a few steps, stunned from his fall and Liam’s quick to hit the butt of his gun into the head of a zombie that was lunging for Harry’s falling body.

The creature falls to his feet and he doesn’t stick around to see if it’s still undead. He spins on his heel as Harry fires a shot off in front of them, striking another zombie right in the center of its forehead. 

He can see the fear clear as day on the younger lads face. 

“We gotta go,” he grabs his friend's shoulder and begins to drag him towards the path with the least amount of zombies. Liam sends a plea for help from up above – if anyone’s still up there he wonders – but he’ll try anything at this point.

Harry chases after him, glancing over his shoulder every once in a while to see how many zombies are following them. His heart drops a little more every time he looks; it seems like the group doubles every time he checks.

He pushes himself faster, harder than he ever has. His lungs are on fire and he’s dripping sweat by the time they reach a small clearing. There’s a rundown cabin, but it looks intact, so they take their chances and jump up the rotted steps and into the house.

Liam slams the door shut behind Harry but they can’t breathe easy yet. He’s got his gun raised as he quickly scans the room. Once it’s cleared he moves throughout the other two rooms quickly, checking the bedroom and bathroom for any unwanted visitors.

Thankfully, it’s empty.

He helps Liam move the dusty couch in front of the door as an extra barrier. The windows are busted out but they’re boarded up like this was someone’s safe haven at one point.

He wonders what happened to them.

***

A bang on the window above his head startles Zayn from where he’d dozed off again after his friends had left. He couldn’t help himself. Being this injured really took it out of him.

He scrambles to sit up, clutching the other pistol in his hand tightly, but cries out when he shifts his leg the wrong way and there’s a tug on his stitches. His vision goes white for a second but he grinds down on his teeth and raises the gun with a wobbly hand.

Niall stands on the other side of the window, blue eyes open wide in fear. He’s got both of his hands up on the window and when Zayn drops the gun immediately after seeing him, a big grin spreads across his face.

He gestures to the back door and Niall nods eagerly and disappears leaving a glaring Louis who doesn’t look pleased to be here at all. 

“Well well well, look what we have here,” Niall teases as soon as Zayn’s pushed the door open and easing himself out, “Long time no see.”

“Yeah,” Zayn scratches the back of his head awkwardly, “Sorry about Harry.”

Niall shrugs like he couldn’t give a shit about Harry’s actions. He peeks over Zayn’s shoulder into the van, deflating slightly when he doesn’t see the curly haired boy. “What are you doing here?”

“We ran out of gas,” Zayn responds, looking to see the position of the sun in the sky. He figures it’s been three or four hours since his friends left to scout and he thinks it might be a good time to start worrying. 

“Where’s the others?” Niall questions curiously. He shoots a glare at Louis when he hears the boy scoff and mumble, “Who cares?”

“Went to find supplies. Was hoping they’d be back by now actually,” Zayn voices his concern.

“Which way did they go?”

“That way,” he points towards the forest he’d seen them walk into.

“They went into the forest to find gas?” Louis rolls his eyes, “It’s a wonder you all managed to survive this long.” 

“Well we did,” Zayn responds lamely.

The three of them are silent for a beat before Niall speaks up, “You gonna let us in?”

Zayn bites his lip, looking between the two warily. He knows that Niall probably won’t do anything, but there’s still two of them and they could easily overpower him and take all of the things they’ve worked so hard to collect.

“Sure,” he lets them into the van against his better judgement. Louis brows furrow instantly, looking around the van that’s packed with different things.

“My ass, ‘we don’t have anything,’” he mocks, picking up an old Fleetwood Mac record, “You have a bloody record player for Christ’s sake!”

“Just something we found,” Zayn blushes, “We missed the old world. Wanted something that felt like home.” He feels a bit insecure as the pair scour through their things, not a care in the world.

“What’s this?” Niall asks, pulling out a small bag from a container of Zayn’s and examining it closely.

“Be careful with that!” Zayn grabs for it, plucking it from Nialls grasp and replacing it in the crate gently. “It’s seeds.”

“Seeds?”

“Yes, seeds,” Zayn huffs, “You know, to plant foods and flowers and stuff when we find a place that we can be safe at.”

Louis snorts and turns back to dig through more stuff, “Unlikely.” 

Zayn glares at the boy for a moment and sends Niall a questioning glance when he sees that the blue eyed boy is looking at him in awe. “What?”

“I love that idea Zayn,” he smiles genuinely at the boy, blue eyes sparkling, “You’re so smart for thinking of that.”

The black haired boy flushes and stutters out a thanks. 

“We’ll help get you gas,” Niall decides a few minutes later, after he’s done picking through their things.

“What?” Louis and Zayn say at the same time. 

Niall shrugs and looks at his friend innocently, “Why not?”

“Um, because we already helped them and where did it get us Niall? Nowhere!”

“But Lou–”

“No. Nope. We are not doing this again. I gave it to you the first time but not this time Horan. It’s getting late and we’ve got to find shelter.”

“You can stay here,” Zayn blurts, face reddening when both boys' attention is on him, “I mean, if you help us find gas we can give you shelter for the night and a ride.”

“Somehow I don’t think your leader will be down for that,” Louis scowls.

“He won’t have a choice. Liam and I won’t give him one.”

Louis shakes his head, glancing outside. He knows the sun will be setting soon and the last sign they’d seen on the side of the road marked the next town five miles away. There was no way they’d make it there with the slow pace they had been moving at today because Niall’s leg was still giving him trouble. They really have no choice but to stay here if they didn’t want to sleep in the forest on high alert all night. 

When he sighs, Niall’s face lights up with a smile because he knows they’re staying. “Alright, fine.”

Zayn nods in thanks but Louis just gives him another eye roll so he pulls out the red canister they use for extra gas and hands it over.

“You can put the gas in here, and this is what we use to siphon it,” He passes over a dirty looking hose. Louis grimaces but takes it from Zayn anyway. He’s had worse in his mouth.

The oldest boy sighs and pushes past Zayn to climb out of the van. Once he hops out and sees that Niall is following him he’s quick to stop the boy. 

“No, you’re staying here.”

Nialls brows furrow with worry immediately, “What? No, You can’t go alone!”

“I’d be faster on my own and we both know that,” Louis says gently, placing a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder, “It’ll take half the time for me alone than it would with both of us.”

“I don’t want us to split up again,” Niall pouts. His throat tightens and his eyes begin to burn with tears without his permission. He hates to think the worst, but it’s what he does best.

“I’ll be alright,” Louis tries to calm him down. If he sees Niall cry, then he’ll probably cry too and they can’t be doing that in front of Zayn. “I’ll be back, forty minutes tops.”

“If you’re not I’ll come looking,” Niall says.

Louis brushes his matted hair back and pecks Niall on the forehead, “I know you will.”

“Here, you can take this and we have extra bullets,” Zayn interrupts without realizing, and when he does, he ducks his head down shyly, “You know, just as extra protection.”

Louis takes the gun and nods his thanks. He gives the other gun he had holstered in his belt to Niall, who he hopes doesn’t give it back to Zayn, since it’s technically theirs to begin with.

“Forty minutes,” Niall calls after Louis.

“Forty minutes,” he confirms over his shoulder, picking up his pace.

The two injured boys watch until Louis is no longer seen and then Niall turns to Zayn. “How long did you say your friends have been gone?”

“Probably four or more hours.”

Niall’s mouth forms an O shape and he’s about to respond when they hear a gunshot go off. It doesn’t sound too far away, but it’s not close enough to be Louis. Niall hopes that the brunet boy will keep going for gas and not turn back.

Zayn and Niall share a worried glance before Zayn’s suddenly remembering that he’s got a radio to contact his friends with. He carefully moves as quickly as he can and gestures Niall to get in the van and shut the doors.

He switches the radio on and all they hear is static before it gets quieter and Zayn calls out to his friends.

They sit in tense silence, Niall trying to look out of every window he can as if he’ll see through the trees and figure out what’s going on.

Zayn calls many times, each one more distressed than the last. He breathes a sigh of relief when Liam finally answers.

“What’s going on? We heard a gunshot and I thought the worst. Are the both of you okay?” Zayn asks frantically into the radio.

“We?” Liam questions.

Zayn glances at Niall worriedly. “Uh, Niall’s here.”

The line goes silent and Zayn can only guess that Harry’s heard and they’re fighting over the other end of the radio. They wait patiently for a response.

“What the hell is he doing with you?” Harry’s angry voice shouts through the radio with Liam struggling and telling him to give it back. Zayn winces at his tone and looks at Niall apologetically, but his back is to him, watching for signs of movement in the trees.

“They were walking the same way we were going, Harry,” Zayn responds, annoyed. “This isn’t the time to be worrying that he’s here. Are you guys okay?”

“We're trapped in a cabin. There’s a horde outside, not sure how big, but big enough where we couldn’t handle it.”

Zayn curses under his breath, thinking. Niall and himself are injured, and it’ll be at least a half an hour until Louis gets back with the gas and the sun is setting quickly.  
“But you guys are safe?”

“We don’t know for how long,” it’s Liam who answers now. “If more come I’m not sure we’ll be able to make it out.”

“Don’t fucking say that,” Zayn’s heart speeds up at the thought, “We’re going to get you out.” He bites his lip harshly. 

Niall finally turned to look at the black haired boy when he heard the distress in his voice and nodded comfortingly. He begins looking around, trying to come up with a plan. He’s not sure how many guns they have, but he’s thinking they’re going to need to come up with a different strategy, knowing that they’ll both be zombie food if they try and draw them away when neither of them can run.

He perks up and he grins at Zayn when he comes up with an idea.

“What?”

“How attached are you to that record player?”


	6. Day 837 (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tears stream down his face and he’s too weak – too hurt – to even open his eyes when he hears footsteps approaching.
> 
> He knows it’s too late.

Harry’s fuming, pacing back and forth (rather loudly Liam thinks) across the tiny living room/kitchen space of the cabin they’re currently trapped in. The floorboards creek with each step he takes with his worn in combat boots, but his mind is occupied by the fact that Zayn is alone with Niall and Louis and Zayn’s still injured and he doesn’t trust the blond or his friend.

“Harry,” Liam hisses, peeking out from behind the crusty blinds. The zoms are still there, now on the other side of the poorly boarded up front door, clawing to get inside and get a taste of the two boys hidden away inside. With every scratch of their nails he cringes and his fear rises. He can just imagine the brittle wood flaking away under their touch. “Stop that.”

“How could we have been so fucking stupid?” Harry spits, ignoring Liam’s words. He threads his fingers through his hair and winces as his long digits get caught in his own knots. He curses and tugs his hands out, hair catching on his rings. I should’ve shaved my damn head when I had the chance, he thinks to last week when Liam had shaved all of his own matted hair off of his head. 

He should’ve never let them split up. It was one of the first rules they’d learned out here in the new world; don’t split up. And they’ve done just that. “Now he’s stuck with them.”

“At least he’ll be taken care of if we don’t make it out,” Liam sighs warily.

Harry’s gaze snaps to Liam who’s still facing the window, “We’re not going to die.”

“I’m not too sure about that mate,” Liam responds sadly. There’s so many zombies outside that he can’t see where the horde ends.

He tenses up when he feels Harry move next to him to look out the window. Harry bites his lip. He wants to disagree with Liam, but their chances don’t look too good.

You’ve got to figure something out, Harry, he thinks to himself, and fast.

He pushes away from the window and quickly shuffles through the house, checking every window to see if there’s a free path for them to escape.

Spoiler alert: There isn’t.

“Okay, okay,” he mutters under his breath, racking his brain for the faintest idea of how to get them out of there, “Think.”

When he walks back into the living room Liam’s settled himself on the floor, gun placed lightly in his lap. His eyes are fixed on the door, the scratching and clawing is louder now, a constant reminder that they’re surrounded by a horde of the undead and it makes Harry shudder. 

He collapses on the floor next to his friend and squeezes his eyes shut tight.

“Maybe they’ll get bored and leave if we stay quiet,” Liam suggests, although he’s not sure he believes it could work.

“Maybe,” Harry echoes quietly, because really, he can’t think of a better idea.

Minutes feel like hours while they sit quietly, alone with their thoughts. Harry soon realizes how bad of a situation they are in. Sure, they’re safe from the horde for now, but they’ve got no food, no water, no plan. They won’t survive very long here. He can only pray that Liam’s idea works.

***

He doesn’t know how long they've been sitting in the house but his ass is numb when he stands and the sun looks like it’s a few hours from setting. He scopes out the perimeter once more, but there’s still no break in zombies outside.

Harry sighs, makes his way from the back of the house up to the front. Liam’s stood now, gun clutched tightly and his brows furrowed, and “Do you hear that?”

The curly haired boy stills and no, he doesn’t hear anything but the constant scraping of nails against the door that they’d heard all day, but he tries to push past that, listen closer, and then he does hear it.

“Is that fucking Bohemian Rhapsody?”

And it bloody is.

“What the actual fuck?” They both crowd up to the window and sure enough, the sound of the loud song has caught the attention of the zoms. One by one they clamber off the porch, falling over each other in a slow race to get to wherever the sound is coming from.

“Get on the radio,” Harry commands, “See if it’s Zayn.”

Liam pulls the walkie-talkie from his waistband and flicks it on, flinching when loud radio static fills the room. He fumbles with the radio, lowering it immediately, then checking to see if it’s caught any of the retreating zombies attention. Thankfully, it hasn’t. 

“Zayn, come in Zayn.”

Harry and Liam share a look over the silent line.

“Zayn?”

“Yeah, I’m here, I’m here.” Both boys share a sigh of relief. 

“What’s going on? Is that you?”

“It’s Niall,” Zayn speaks, “He’s trying to save you.”

“Why?” The question spills out of Harry’s mouth and he quickly bites his lip so he doesn’t accidentally blurt out more questions. Liam repeats his question into the radio.

“Because he’s good,” Zayn defends, and, well, he’s not totally convinced, but he’ll trust him for now.

“And his friend?” He studies the last few zombies withdrawing to the woods. He signals to the couch and Liam tosses the radio onto it while he walks around the other side. They move it with ease and Harry has to shake the thought of how the undead could have pushed it away just as easily had they gotten through the door.

“He’s getting us gas. Should be back any minute, so you better hurry if you want a ride,” Zayn responds and then the radio cuts out.

Harry looks at Liam who shrugs, “Guess we better go then.”

He switches the radio off and puts it back in its place on his belt, then sets his shotgun to his shoulder, ready for anything. Harry pulls the front door open and Liam scopes the area quickly. He knows he can’t shoot, the zombies are too close and if he rung off a shot, they’d be goners for sure. 

There’s a straggler on the porch, hopping on the one leg it has (he’s surprised it’s upright honestly), and he kicks it off of the porch with ease.

Harry takes the lead then, running straight into the woods. 

***

Niall’s breathing is labored while he treks through the lush forest in the general direction Zayn had told him that Harry and Liam went. He’s trying to walk normal and he’s moving as quick as he can. He just has to find them, set up the record player, and return to Zayn all before Louis gets back to the car and sees him gone. Easy enough.

He has the record player tucked under his arm and he’s pretty sure he’s not supposed to be holding it like this, but in his other hand he clutches his knife in case he runs into any trouble.

Zayn had been reluctant to give into his idea of using the record player to lure away the zombies (making Niall think that this was Harry’s record player), but he gave in quickly when Niall had asked if he would rather have the machine or his friends.

Harry’s going to hate me even more after this.

He pushes away the pain and wipes his brow. He pauses to catch his breath and listen for a sign of where they may have gotten off too. He checks his surroundings and his breath picks up when he realizes that he hadn’t thought of a way to get out of the woods himself. 

He panics.

Everywhere he looks is the same. Littered with trees and plants. He didn’t even know he strayed so far.

“Niall, one thing at a time,” he shakes his head and takes a calming breath. He can’t let himself get too worked up or he’ll be done for. He doesn’t have his inhaler, doesn’t have Louis to bring him back down from his headspace, he only has himself.

“Find Harry and Liam.” He repeats the mantra under his breath a few times, forcing himself to only think about the first step of his plan.

He waits. He listens.

And there it is. The unmistakable sound of the undead. The soft groans and snapping of their jaws as they try and bite and tear at whatever it is they’re trying to devour.

He hopes he’s not too late.

He follows the noise of the vile creatures and it doesn’t take long until he spots the horde, surrounding a cabin that Harry and Liam must’ve taken refuge in. He doesn’t stray too close, instead moving as fast as he can to find a spot far enough to attract the zombies, but not so far that the music can't be heard. 

He holsters his knife when he finds a spot, and places the record player on the ground next to an uprooted tree. He has to be thoughtful of where he puts it because as soon as the zoms come and bump into it, the music will most likely stop playing.

He builds a wall of small rocks and twigs around it, trying to hide it the best he can and grins at his handiwork. He breathes in deeply, releases it, and turns it on.

As soon as the first note is played, he’s already pulling out his knife and limp-running away.

He figures he’s going in the general direction of where he came from (he can’t be sure, but he thinks he is). And then he knows he’s going back towards the cabin because he’s gasping and ducking behind a tree as the first walkers from the group begin to stumble by.

Niall bites his lip harshly. He glares down at his knee in fury. He knows he’s going to have to run now. He’s not going to die because of this leg. 

Not today.

He pushes off of the tree and sprints. The blond tries his best to hold his grunts and gasps of pain in, but all he wants to do is scream his head off because the pain is ripping through his knee now and it feels like he’s been stabbed.

If he’s not running in the right direction he’s going to be so pissed. 

(Rightfully so.)

To Niall’s very very unfortunate luck, the toe of his running shoe catches on an upturned root and he goes down hard, landing on his already hurt knee. He cries out in pain and clutches the knee to his chest, curling his body into a tight ball. Blood streams ribbons from his hand from where the blade had ripped into his palm when he fell harshly to the ground. 

(He wonders if this is what dying feels like.)

Tears stream down his face and he’s too weak – too hurt – to even open his eyes when he hears footsteps approaching.

He knows it’s too late.

“I’m so sorry Lou,” he sobs, rubbing his head into the dirt a little, rocks and sharp twigs scratching at his face, he’s trying to feel the pain somewhere else.

If he was paying more attention he’d have been able to determine that the footsteps he hears were not zombies. They were much too quick to be a part of the undead family.

“Niall?”

He blinks through his tears until he can make out the people looming over his frail body. 

His plan worked.

“Liam? Harry?”

They’re both more stunned than they should be to see the tiny blond curled up on himself in the middle of the forest floor. 

“Wha–” Harry starts but Liam cuts him off, “Harry, duck!”

He doesn’t think twice as he drops to the ground, Liam shooting over his head. The bullet finds home in the center of a zombie's forehead. It no doubt had been attracted to the cries coming from the blond, that’s how they had found him after all.

“Hey,” Harry says softly, brushing the fringe from Niall’s face, “You okay?” He does a quick once over, knowing that it’s Niall’s leg, but he’s surprised when he sees the bloodied hand he has tucked around his knee.

They both flinch when Liam’s gun rings off another shot and another. He glances at them, worry clear on his face, gun still aimed high, “We gotta go.”

Harry gives him a sharp nod, his face setting into that stone cold look he always gets when they’re in danger. He turns to Niall, “Come on, we have to get you up.”

(It’s funny, he thinks. He doesn’t like the blond or his annoying friend but he doesn’t even have to think about saving him.)

“I can’t,” he whimpers, tears still streaming steadily down his face, “It hurts.”

Harry doesn’t think twice about scooping the smaller boy into his arms. Niall’s face contorts in pain and he lets out a yelp as his leg is jostled. He clutches his wounded hand to his chest, his free arm wrapping around Harry’s neck as tight as he can manage and he buries his face into the crook of the younger boy's neck.

He can’t even enjoy the feeling of Harry’s muscular arms because all he wants to do is pass out from the pain.

Apparently, Harry senses this as he spits out at him, “Wake the fuck up Niall. Don’t go to sleep.”

***

They can hear Louis and Zayn arguing from a mile away. 

Okay, it’s not really a mile away, but in the silent forest where all they can hear was the sound of their own footsteps and an occasional sob from Niall, it sounds like they’re using megaphones.

Louis’ just dumping the last of the gas into the tank of the van. He’s fuming, giving Zayn a piece of his mind about letting Niall go off on his own like that. 

His mind’s already set on going to find the blond boy and he can feel himself going a little bit crazy. His stomach is knotted in fear of how he might find Niall.

The brunet chucks the empty gas can at Zayn, his blue eyes ablaze, “Enjoy your fucking ride.”

He slams the gas cap back in place, twisting it aggressively until it clicks. Zayn’s tossed the plastic can carelessly into the back of the van. He understands why Louis was yelling at him, but he doesn’t think that he realizes that his high pitched voice is probably attracting the herd. Of course he didn’t want the blond to go off on his own, but it’s not like he could stop him.

“Louis,” he cuts off the tiny boy’s rant with a slap to his chest, “There they are!”

Harry and Liam come scrambling out of the trees. Harry’s frantically yelling at them to “Get the fuck in the car,” and he doesn’t question it, lifting himself into the open back of the van. Not even Louis questions it, he breathes a slight sigh of relief seeing Niall in the tall boy’s arms and God he hopes he’s okay. He clambers into the front seat and Zayn’s tossing the keys up front to him. 

He shoves them in the ignition, twisting, and the car sputters to life.

The zoms slowly start to creep out of the trees just as Liam shuts the back door loudly behind himself and Harry.

The green eyed boy collapses on the bench seat, Niall still safely in his arms as Louis hits the gas, the big car lurches forward, causing Niall to cry out in pain.

The tires screech against the cracking pavement and Louis rams into a zombie who’s tripped in front of the car, head squishing under the tire like a watermelon.


	7. Day 837 (Part 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry scoffs and turns away to sit on the bench seat, not wanting to be anywhere near Louis. He’s not sure which he despises more between the two newcomers, the loud, annoying one, or the cute, Irish one.
> 
> Well that settles that then.

“Oh my god is he okay?” Louis asks loudly, glancing in the rear view mirror to check on his best friend. He can’t see Niall’s face, but he can see the sweaty matted down hair on his head and can hear his labored breathing.

“I’m fine Lou,” Niall grits out, eyes squeezed shut. He’s not, and none of the other boys believe him for a second, but they all let him have his peace. Every jostle of the car is agonizing and his hand is still bleeding heavily from where he has it tucked under his armpit. Blood is probably getting all over Harry’s shirt, but he can’t bring himself to care.

Harry wears a frown on his face and uses this time to admire Niall’s features. His long blond eyelashes and puffy pink lips with bite marks from where he’d tried to hold back his cries. He’s got a dirty face but the tear tracks show his pale skin off and it’s almost blinding. He wonders just how milky the skin is beneath his clothes, untouched by the sun.

His thoughts make him want to dump Niall off of his lap. 

So he does.

He doesn’t shove him off onto the floor, he’s more gentlemanly than that. He stands awkwardly from the seat, struggling for a second because the van is moving and he’s holding Niall so he can’t stand to his full height. 

He’d been surprised at how light the boy in his arms was when he initially picked him up; it made him worry for a moment that he wasn’t getting enough to eat, but then again, none of them really were.

Harry does however, drop Niall back onto the bench seat. He hasn’t fallen that far, a foot at most, but his knees knock together and he cries out in agony.

“What the fuck?” Louis stomps the break when he hears the agony in his best friends cry.

The gash in the middle of Niall’s palm pulls when he places both hands up on the back of the tan leather seat in front of him so he doesn’t go sliding headfirst into it when Louis breaks sharply.

“Fuck,” Niall gasps out, his jaw snapping shut immediately after. He doesn’t need Louis worrying over him, knowing that he’d stop the car to check to see if he’s okay. Getting out of here should be the first priority. 

He considers himself lucky after seeing what the sudden stop of the car did to Harry. He’d gone tumbling over the front row seats head first and Niall’s pretty sure he heard his head smack something up there. 

“He better be okay back there, curly,” Louis hisses to Harry who is now lifting his aching head, rubbing at the spot he knows is going to grow a nice bump. He glares at the feathery haired boy.

“I really fucking hate you."

“Right back at ya, Mick.”

“Mick?” He questions, groaning as he rights himself and rubs a hand over his face. His nose had smashed into the dashboard. He can feel the blood start to drip from his nose and he pinches the bridge, cutting off the flow easily.

“Never heard of the Rolling Stones? I’m surprised, since you’ve got their record in the back.”

“I do not look like Mick Jagger,” he protests.

“Yeah, and I’m not driving right now,” Louis responds and he lets off the brake, glancing at Niall in the mirror once more. The car rolls slowly forward.

Harry scoffs and turns away to sit on the bench seat, not wanting to be anywhere near Louis. He’s not sure which he despises more between the two newcomers, the loud, annoying one, or the cute, Irish one.

Well that settles that then.

“Harry, where did all that blood on your shirt come from?” Zayn asks, reaching out to search his friend for any sign of a wound.

Harry slaps his hand away, still pissed off at the boy that has taken over the car in the few hours he’d been gone.

“Not mine,” he says to Zayn. He leans up against the seat next to the black haired boy and tilts his head back, trying to stop the flow of blood trying to escape his nose. He prods the area gently with his fingers and hisses under his breath, but he deems his nose not broken. “It’s blondies. He was trying to kill himself out in the woods or something.”

“I was not you arsehole,” Niall’s quick to respond before Louis can stop the car and actually hurt Harry. He curls in tighter on himself as they hit another bump and he bounces on the seat where he’s laid out. The blood is still flowing from his wound, everytime the van jerks and he clenches his fist a fresh wave of blood trickles from the cut. It’s pooling up on the seat beneath him, the dark red standing out painfully against the tan. He hopes Zayn won’t be too upset with him. “Trying to save your ass more like.”

Harry rolls his eyes and opens his mouth to respond with another snarky remark but Liam is quick to turn around in his seat and speak before he can while glaring at Harry the whole time, “Yes, Niall, thank you for saving us. Don’t know what we would’ve done if you hadn’t helped us and we’re not sure how we will ever be able to repay you.”

“Well, if I had known that this was how things were doing to go I would’ve only helped you out Liam,” Niall responds and Harry glowers at him but the boy is still turned away from them all.

He wants to mention that he’s the one that carried Niall’s ass all the way back to the car but after receiving a warning look from his friends and even Louis in the mirror, he keeps his mouth shut.

“Ni,” Zayn moves from his bench to Niall’s, carefully minding his own injury, and perches gingerly next to where his legs are curled up, “Can you show me where your wound is?”

Niall shakes his head no and turns his shoulder more, hiding the mess of blood he’s made on the seat. He’s starting to feel a little nauseated, but he’s not sure if it’s from blood loss or Louis’ driving.

The dark haired boy rubs his back soothingly, “Please? Let me help you the way you helped me.”

Wait until you see this seat. Niall takes a deep breath and before he can think about the reaction to the blood, he leans back and holds out his clenched fist towards Zayn.

The older boy tries not to show how startled he is, but looking at Niall’s painted red hand that’s still dripping fresh blood onto the boys clothes, he can’t help but make a face of worry. Niall’s not looking anyway, trying not to look at any of them really, especially Louis who he knows is the maddest he’s been at him since their friendship even started.

He takes Niall’s hand firmly in his own and tenderly taps the boy’s fingers as a sign for him to open them. He braces himself. 

Niall uncurls his fingers from the wound. He’s not sure how bad it is, and he could probably fix it himself, but his knee is killing him and it’s kind of nice to be taken care of by Zayn.

It’s not as bad as he thought. It’s decently deep, but they’ve seen worse (Zayn’s own leg), and he thinks that it won't be too hard to sew him up. The skin around the wound is puffy and angry looking but otherwise it looks okay.

“Did yourself a number here Niall,” he comments, trying to get the other boy to look up from where his head is tucked into his other arm. When Niall doesn’t, he places his hand gently down and does his best to maneuver around the trunk and get the supplies he needs, ignoring the strain on his leg. “Good news is, you’ll be alright.”

Niall’s a trooper. He doesn’t flinch when Zayn cleans his injury with some antiseptic he’d pulled from Niall’s bag (after getting permission to do so), and he barely reacts when Zayn shoves the needle a little too deep into the skin of his hand and he has to pull it back out. He’d profusely apologized to the smaller boy, but all he got was a shrug and a small, “It’s fine,” in return. 

In the end it looks like sharp jagged teeth of a cartoon monster, but it seems like it’s holding together like it needs to and he wraps it up tightly with some gauze. 

“Zayn?” Niall asks, finally uncovering his face and stealing the attention of the dark haired boy who is putting everything back in its rightful place. He peeks a glance at Harry, whose head is tilted back against the window of the van. He’s not sure if he’s asleep, but he’s quiet, and that’s more than okay with Niall. He actually looks cuter when he’s relaxed like this, his face free from stress and worry. 

Harry chooses this exact moment to lift his head, even though he knows Niall isn’t talking to him. He barely catches the blond's gaze before his blue eyes look skittishly back to Zayn who is now giving him his full attention. 

Luckily for Niall, Harry doesn’t give him a second look before scooting up closer to the front of the car, and he misses the flush of Niall’s cheeks.

“Thank you,” he tells Zayn quietly, “For helping me.”

“And thank you, for helping us,” Zayn responds with a kind smile as he zips up Niall’s bag. “Now, is there anything we can do for your knee?”

“Not really,” Niall shrugs, “Used to get it massaged in therapy back in the day, but I just think it’s a lost cause now.”

“Harry used to give the best massages back when we were in school,” Zayn says and Harry’s head whips around from where Liam and Louis are bickering about where to stop for the night and he narrows his eyes at Zayn.

The onyx haired boy ignores him though and continues on, lifting Niall’s legs gently over his own lap. He prods softly at Niall’s knee, and it’s painful, but the kind of pain that feels excruciatingly good. “S’how he used to pull all the girls,” he snorts and rolls his eyes, “But everytime Liam and I walked in on him with someone that’s all it ever was. Don’t think he ever actually has sex with any of them.”

“I resent that,” Harry huffs.

“Why don’t you show Ni how good your skills are?” he grins at his friend.

“No, I’m good,” they end up saying at the same time. They share a look but Niall’s quick to avoid eye contact with him, moving his gaze out the window of the car instead.

And eventually, the pain eases. He watches the trees pass by in a blur and he watches the sky darken, all while Zayn kneads the muscles around his knee. He hopes he never stops, hopes he never has to leave. 

He hopes. And he falls into sleep.


	8. Day 838

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why can’t Liam do it,” Harry adds, looking as upset as Niall. He’ll admit that he’s happy it’s not Zayn who's going down there to help with Niall getting cleaned up, but he doesn’t exactly know how to act around the blond boy.
> 
> “Because Zayn’s injured, and Liam and I are still trying to figure out where to go,” Louis crosses his arms over his chest, “It’s Harry or you go alone. And I’d prefer if you didn’t go alone. Sorry bub.”
> 
> He doesn’t sound sorry.

When he wakes up he’s surprised at how peaceful the world around him is. The sun is shining down into the van, warm across his face. It’s quiet, which normally would be unsettling, but he’d gone to sleep at the soft touch of Zayn’s hands, and knowing Louis was in control of the van made him feel safer than he has in as long as he can remember. 

He takes a deep breath and stretches his limbs, looking around the van and noticing that he’s alone. It’s late, he can tell by looking at the sun through the window, shining brightly almost above, he’d must’ve slept almost half of the day away. The back door of the vehicle is open, letting in the warm, soft breeze, and if he strains his ears, he can hear Liam and Louis bickering softly.

He’s never been so content.

He rubs his eyes and clears his dry throat, hoping that one of the boys has some water left to share. He lies on the bench for a few minutes longer, he could probably sleep the whole day away, with how exhausted he is, but he figures he better go save Louis from the three strangers they’ve been riding with.

Sitting up, he cringes at the mess he’s made on the seat. Dried blood smeared haphazardly on the tan leather, embedded into the cracks. His shirt sticks to it when he rises and he makes a face, feeling the uncomfortable crusty fabric rub against his skin.

He’ll be sure to clean that up before they move on. 

“Nialler, my boy,” His best friend grins when he spots the blond carefully shuffling out of the back of the van, “Can you please tell Liam that we should be heading west instead of east?”

Niall eyes his friend suspiciously as he moves closer to where the group is lounging on folding chairs that Niall didn’t even know they had. He glances around whilst stretching his back out now that he’s out of the cramped car and notices that they’ve ended up at an RV park. They must’ve been left over from someone's trip before. 

There’s still plenty of trees surrounding them and he knows he wouldn’t have chosen this as a place for them to stop for the night had he been awake, but if Louis trusts that it was a fine idea, he’ll keep his opinions to himself. At least the place seems mostly abandoned. There is a lone RV parked across the lot and he knows that Louis’ would’ve already checked it out so he finds himself relaxing a little as he perches next to Zayn at the bench.

“Louis, could you lower your voice before you attract something we don't want around?” Liam huffs, smacking him on the arm lightly.

“Awe, but with a voice as high as his, it’d be pretty easy to attract some hogs,” Harry taunts from where he’s sitting across the table from Niall, back towards the blond. “Suey,” he hog calls, imitating Louis' pitched voice.

“Fuck off,” Louis flips him off, rolling his eyes.

“What the hell did I miss?” Niall mutters, studying the interaction closely. He must’ve missed a hell of a lot while he was sleeping because as far as he remembers, Harry and Louis hated each other. He brushes it off for a moment, thinking he’ll just ask Louis or Zayn later, and speaks up. “I don’t know which way we should go, but I know that east is the way we came from, so I’d rather not head back that way, yeah?”

Louis smirks smugly and the rest of the boys stare at him, shocked looks on their faces.

“How do you know that?”

Niall shrugs, cringing at the feel of the stiff fabric brushes his cheek again. He ignores it for the moment, “Basic astronomy. The sun rises in the east and sets in the west,” he glances at Harry quickly, but not being able to see his eyes behind his sunglasses leaves him feeling a bit nervous. He shifts his gaze to Zayn instead. “Plus, we have a map.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Harry says at the same time Liam speaks, “You let us drive around in what could possibly have been a circle all night?”

“I was a little preoccupied,” he waves his hand and gestures to his knee for good measure. Liam sends him an apologetic look and turns to Louis, questioning their driver on why he forgot to mention that they had a map with them.

“How are you by the way?” Zayn asks softly as Liam follows Louis back to the van, presumably to look for the map Niall had tucked away in the front pocket of his pack.

Harry examines the blond while he’s turned towards Zayn. His face has great structure, nose straight, angular jaw, the works. His face is dirty, blood dired into his skin, along with sweat streaks and grime and he wants to dip the rag into the bucket of water he’d gathered from the nearby lake and help the smaller boy wash off his pretty face.

“I’m alright,” Niall responds, “Hand hurts a little, but my leg feels a thousand times better thanks to your magic fingers.”

Zayn laughs and Harry watches him turn away, a blush creeping up on his face. He frowns at that and pushes away from the table, suddenly angry with the situation.

“Where are you going?” he hears Zayn call after him but he doesn’t stop. He slips a hand onto his holster, checking to see if he has his gun and stalks off without responding.

***

After Harry had walked away the other two were quick to appear with the map, laying it down on the table in front of the four of them so they could go over where they were. Once finding the general area of where they were and marking it with a mark that Liam had produced, the pair had gone on to argue about where to go to next. Niall excused himself because his leg was getting stiff and abandoned a bored looking Zayn at the table.

Louis has passed him a water bottle and a granola bar on his way past, without even a pause to his conversation with Liam. Niall clapped him on the back in thanks and made his way over to the van, sitting on the bumper to eat his meal. 

The now rust colored seat taunted him as he ate, calling immediate attention from the otherwise decently clean van. 

And that’s how Niall finds himself crouched over the leather seat in the back of the vehicle after he’s eaten, trying to scrub the blood off of the seat.

It’s taking a bit more work than he’d like, but he should’ve known how hard it would be to get the seat clean. His arms are burning, his knee is throbbing from kneeling in front of the seat for so long, and he’s pretty sure he’s tore a stitch in his hand.

It’s not going well.

“You don’t use water to clean leather,” Harry’s voice startles him and he flinches hard, heart racing. He sits back on his heels and glares over at the curly haired boy who’s leaning against one of the open back doors. Niall loses his breath at the sight. He looks considerably cleaner than when he’d seen him last and he’s changed his clothes, now in a new pair of skinny jeans and a see-through white t-shirt that makes Niall wish he had some water left over.

He clears his throat and turns back towards the seat, feeling the blush creep up his neck because he was staring so long. “Well we don’t bloody have leather cleaner,” he mutters and rolls his eyes, brushing the cloth harder into the tan leather. It’s tricky, but at least most of it is coming out.

Harry digs around for something in one of the containers and tosses it onto the seat next to Niall. A bottle of leather cleaner.

“Of course you have this,” he shakes his head, “A necessity for the end of the world.”

Harry shrugs, “Nah, it was conveniently in here when we found the car. Owner kept it in pretty good condition.” He runs a hand alongside the door.

“Sorry to uh, ruin it then,” Niall stutters, refusing to look at Harry again. He looks so good all fresh and clean and he’s itching to get clean too.

“Don’t worry about it,” Harry replies, his voice soft and it shocks Niall, “Just glad you’re okay,” the brunet mumbles to himself.

Niall doesn’t know how to respond, swears he can feel Harry’s eyes burning into his skin as he watches his every move, but when his eyes shift over to where he was standing a few minutes ago, he’s gone.

He lets out a sigh of relief. The leather cleaner works wonders, and he curses because he could’ve saved himself so much more time if he’d known about it before. 

At least I’m done now, he thinks, sitting back and admiring his handiwork. The seat looks back to the condition it was in before his blood had spilled all over it, and he thinks it even sparkles a little in the sun. 

He brings his cheek to his shoulder to wipe off the bead of sweat with his shirt, but the scratchy, stiff fabric has him retreating and shuddering under the feeling again. 

He tosses the cloth into the bucket and climbs out of the car, stripping his shirt off and flinging it over his shoulder. Upon approaching the other boys he sees that they’re all changed and cleaned up, looking more comfortable than ever.

“What happened to you lot?” Niall asks, suddenly jealous that no one had told him they were all getting clean. He hadn’t even noticed anyone getting clothes from the van where he’d been for the past two hours.

“Didn’t want to disturb you from your cleaning mate,” Liam tells him, “You were in the zone. Didn’t even notice I came for fresh clothes.” And oh. So that’s what happened.

He swallows hard, notices their old clothes laid out on the table and various spots around them, drying in the sun. 

“We went in shifts. Harry had to help Zayn get clean while Liam watched over us because they don’t trust us,” Louis rolls his eyes, “And I went with Liam because we didn’t want to go alone. You’re the only one left.”

“Are you coming with me?” Niall asks his friend, hopeful to see if Louis has some sort of plan thought up.

“Can’t. Gotta stay and make sure these three don't up and leave us as soon as we get down to the lake,” Louis responds. Niall doesn’t miss the hurtful looks Liam and Zayn wear. “Harry will have to go with you.”

Niall’s heart races. “What? Why?” he sputters, fingers finding their way to play with the shirt hanging over his shoulder. That’s the last thing he wants. 

“Why can’t Liam do it,” Harry adds, looking as upset as Niall. He’ll admit that he’s happy it’s not Zayn who's going down there to help with Niall getting cleaned up, but he doesn’t exactly know how to act around the blond boy.

“Because Zayn’s injured, and Liam and I are still trying to figure out where to go,” Louis crosses his arms over his chest, “It’s Harry or you go alone. And I’d prefer if you didn’t go alone. Sorry bub.”

He doesn’t sound sorry.

“Here,” Zayn passes him a pile of clothes with an apologetic look. It includes a pair of jeans a size too big, a fresh pair of socks and underwear, and he makes a face when he holds up a white tank top with an american flag printed on the front.

“Really?”

“You can wear that or not wear anything at all,” Louis tells him, peering over the top of the map, “It’s all we had left.”

“Whatever,” he mutters before folding it all back up neatly again. He knows his cheeks are burning bright red, but no one mentions it when he passes Harry and says, “Let’s go.”

The walk to the lake is silent and quick, which Niall is thankful for. Harry leads the way, having just been there himself, and Niall takes the time to admire the muscles of his back beneath his tight shirt. And if his gaze slips down to the boys ass, that’s no one’s business.

“Here,” Harry says when they’ve made it to the lake, just a few steps from the edge of the water, he trades Niall the fresh clothes for a small travel sized tube of shampoo that feels empty, “It’s all we’ve got left,” He shrugs and gives him a weak smile.

“Thanks,” Niall replies.

“We all cleaned our clothes the best we could with the lake water,” Harry explains, “Just toss them back onto the grass when you’re done.” He pauses, coughs a little, “There’s no towel though, so you’ll just have to sit in the sun for a bit like we did.”

Niall’s head snaps to look at Harry, “What?” 

“I mean, you don’t have to,” he’s panicking, not sure what to say. He damns the other boys for making this his job, “But that’s...that’s what we did. Or at least Zayn and I.”  
“Right,” Niall swallows the lump in his throat. “Uh, can you maybe turn away?”

“Yeah, of course,” Harry rushes out, turning on his heel and taking a few steps away, “Just let me know when you need your clothes, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Niall echoes, looking out across the lake, surveying the area and trying to calm his mind. Eventually, he kicks off his clothes until he’s in his underpants, and wades out carefully into the water, just deep enough so it covers his goods. 

He makes quick work of scrubbing his clothes clean. The water is murky and he can’t see anything in the water, which gives him an uneasy feeling, so he works as diligently as he can with one hand (not wanting the dirty water to soak into the bandages on his other hand and possibly infect his wound) and tosses each clean item up onto the grass near Harry one by one.

Cleaning himself takes a little longer than he expects and his skin is rubbed raw and bright red when he’s finally done. Neither him nor Harry make any move to start a conversation and he’s thankful. The shampoo had smelled too musky for him, but he used it anyway, not having washed his hair with proper soap in ages. He’d even managed to give his body a little scrub with what was left before throwing the empty bottle back up on shore as well. 

He climbs out of the water, and covers his junk with his hands immediately. As far as he knows, Harry hasn’t moved from his spot, staring through the few trees that lead back to where the van is parked. 

“Can you pass me the clothes now?” he asks, and Harry does as he’s told, all while respecting Niall’s wishes of him to stay facing away.

It had taken all of Harry’s self-control to not peek a glance at the boy in the lake, wanting so badly to watch. He wanted to admire the beautiful boy but he had to respect his choices. He wouldn’t want someone watching him bathe either. Especially one that’s acted like such a dick the way he has been towards Niall.

“Thanks,” Niall murmurs. He doesn’t care that he’s still fairly wet, he sticks his legs through the underwear and tugs them on. He swears to himself because of course, while everything is going to be too big on him, the underwear sits tightly across his lower half. 

It takes some effort to tug the jeans on, getting stuck over his wet legs, but he manages. Sticks his feet into the fresh socks, wiggles them into his shoes, and tugs the tank top over his head. He gathers his sopping wet clothes into his arms and declares, “Done.”

Harry’s breath is lost when he turns around and looks at Niall. He’s as breath-taking as he knew he’d be and he looks so cuddly in his fresh clothes that are a little too baggy on him. He didn’t think Niall could look any better than he did when he tugged off that old shirt, showing the milky white skin of his stomach underneath, but seeing him now in Harry’s extra tank top, with one of the sides slipping off his shoulder, has his stomach fluttering with butterflies. 

“What?” Niall asks, shrinking down a little on himself. He may not be able to see Harry’s eyes, but he knows when he’s being stared at.

“Nothing,” the taller boy sputters, clearing his throat quickly and gulping down a breath as he looks away. “You missed a spot on your face, is all.”

He hasn’t, but he needed some sort of excuse. He just hopes Niall doesn’t see through him as easily as his friends do.

“Really?” Niall uses the damp shirt he just cleaned to scrub at his cheek some more.

“No, it’s–it’s right here,” Niall’s breath catches in his throat when Harry steps up to him, taking the shirt out of his hands and rubbing gently at his face.

They’re standing so close now, both afraid of taking a breath, afraid they’ll scare the other one away. Harry doesn’t miss the way that Niall’s eyes flick to his lips and back to his sunglasses, searching behind the dark glass for his eyes. 

Louis’ squawk is what makes them jump apart. “I uh-” Niall shakes his head, snatching his shirt from Harry’s hand and quickly walks back towards the camp as quick as he can, his head ducked low so no one can see his blush. 

Harry watches him rush off and sighs. He pulls his hair frustratedly and trudges after Niall, kicking himself for what just happened.

“We’ve decided to spend the night here,” Louis announces when Niall and Harry have rejoined the group.

Niall’s never wanted to physically harm Louis more.


	9. Day 838/839

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Keeping the Earth clean Niall.” Harry responds easily, “We couldn’t want to zoms to choke on it. Now c’mon, we better get going.” 
> 
> Niall cackles and Harry almost swoons.

“You know what I miss?” Louis prompts, shoveling another spoonful of luke-warm beans into his mouth, then passing it along to Niall, who’s sat next to him. 

The sun had just set, and they are all gathered around the firepit at the campsite, bright orange and yellow flames casting a warm glow across all of them. Despite Niall not thinking that the fire was a good idea (as it could attract the attention of anything really, zoms, humans, animals, you name it), he had been outnumbered three to two with Louis declaring that if zoms came by, the fire would take them out, to which Niall had responded with, “Yeah, zoms on fire, that sounds brilliant,” with a roll of his eyes. 

Harry surprisingly agreed with him, mentioning that they needed to keep under the radar after what happened, and Niall thought he had more control over their little group, but not anymore it seems like. 

No one says anything so Louis continues, “Hot dogs.”

Harry scoffs, “Of all the things you could miss, you choose hot dogs?”

Louis glares across the fire at the youngest boy, “I didn’t say I missed it the most, Mick, I just said I missed it.”

“Please stop calling me that.”

“Please stop acting like a dick,” Louis mimics. 

“I miss weed,” Zayn cuts off Harry’s response. They all look towards Zayn whose head is hung sheepishly. When he peeks up and sees everyone staring at him he shrugs a shoulder, “What? I do!”

Niall can’t help it, he bursts out laughing. It’s a real, hearty laugh that has him throwing his head back and clutching his stomach. He knows he’s being way too loud, but he can’t stop it, he can’t stop the tears leaking out of his eyes. He hasn’t laughed like this in a long time.

The others join in quickly, and soon they’re all lost in fits of giggles over Zayn’s words. 

“Fuck Z,” Niall gasps for air once they’ve all settled down a little. He wipes at his eyes and says, “That’s a good one.”

The black haired boy beams.

“What do you miss Liam?” Louis asks with a lop-sided smile.

“I really miss Twinkies,” he responds, and they all break out into another fit of laughter.

“How very Zombieland.”

Niall adds, “In that case, I nominate Louis for ‘Zombie kill of the week,’” he raises his can of beans in the air, nodding towards the brunet with a grin, “Running over that zoms head with the car? Brilliant.”

“Awe c’mon, I can’t accept that when you’re the one who led a whole horde away with a record player!”

“Yeah, but I didn’t kill any of them,” Niall argues playfully, “Only injured myself.”

“Fine, we’ll share it this week then,” Louis smiles, “But next week, it’s all mine.”

“You’re on,” Niall laughs.

“How about you Harry?” Louis asks then, “Anything you miss?”

“My sister,” the curly haired boy responds bluntly and just like that, the mood changes from relaxed and playful to somber and tense.

The beans in Niall’s mouth turn to sludge and he forces himself to swallow them down. He stares down into the can, thinking about his own family. His parents, his brother and his family, aunts, uncles, and cousins, all of which he doesn’t have the slightest clue of what happened to them. Are they still alive in Ireland? Have they found refuge or have they become one of the lucky ones? His appetite is ruined.

The silence stretches long and he begins to fidget with the label, picking at it with his nails. He’s holding back tears thinking about it, and he can’t let himself cry over this. It’s been too long, he should be used to this. 

Harry stalks away from the group a few moments later. 

At first, no one follows him, but Liam seems to realize just how dark it is and tells the rest of them that he’s going after Harry, throwing them an apologetic look.

Zayn clears his throat eventually, “I’m uh, sorry about that.”

“Not like he’s the only one that’s lost people,” Louis mutters. His voice sounds thick and he’s glaring into the fire, Niall can see that his eyes are glazed over with tears, “We just don’t talk about it.”

Louis is standing, holding his hand out to Niall before Zayn can respond, “C’mon Ni.”

The blond doesn’t question him, taking his hand and getting to his feet. He thinks about telling Louis that they shouldn’t just leave Zayn out here on his own, but then Liam and Harry are returning to their seats. Harry’s head is hung and Liam’s eyes look a little red, but neither of them say anything. Niall gives Zayn a sympathetic look before Louis leads him away towards the van. 

He’s miserable as he climbs into the back of the van after Louis. The older boy lays a dirty blanket on the shag carpet in between the two bench seats and kicks off his shoes before getting comfortable. He opens his arms up and with puppy dog eyes says, “Come cuddle.”

Niall doesn’t hesitate to fall into his friend's arms after slipping out his own shoes off and he lets out a whimper and a sniffle, letting his emotions go now that they are alone. 

“I know Ni,” Louis soothes, running his fingers through his hair, “Me too.”

And that’s what Niall loves about Louis. After everything they’ve been through, he always knows exactly what to say and when to say it, or when to not say it. He gets Niall and Niall gets him. 

They both end up crying and ranting a bit, but as quickly as the tears come, they stop just as fast in case the other three boys decide to make an appearance. He’s surprised Harry hadn’t sent one of them after him and Louis immediately, knowing they were headed towards their only mode of safety and transportation.

“So, we sticking with them then?” Niall questions quietly, playing with the hem of Louis' shirt.

“Reckon we might as well see where it gets us,” Louis says, pecking him on the forehead, “Beats wandering around aimlessly with no plan. Plus, they seem to have a plan, with all the stuff they’ve saved up, you know.”

Niall nods, a small smile appearing on his face. He clutches his friend tighter, in silent thanks.

“Five beats two anyways,” he mumbles before he falls asleep tucked into Louis’ side.

***

Niall’s the first to wake. He stretches, being careful as not to disturb Louis who is still snoring softly next to him. He shifts into a sitting position, noticing Zayn sprawled across the bench seat next to him, arm thrown over his eyes to block the sun that is drifting in through the window. He peeks a glance up into the front seat as he tugs on his shoes. Niall makes a face when he sees Liam, who is curled up awkwardly against the driver’s side door, and Harry who is leant up against the passenger door, long legs stretched out across Liam's lap.

He chuckles a bit at the sight and gets out of the car as quietly as he can, after making sure he has his knife and gun holstered in his belt. 

He cringes when the back door closes with a rather loud click, and he waits for a few moments, holding his breath until he knows that he hasn’t woken up any of the other boys.

He rocks back and forth on his heels, scoping out the campground to make sure that they’re still in the clear, since someone wasn’t on watch. They can’t be so careless again.

He walks the perimeter of the campground, humming softly to himself under his breath. There doesn’t seem to be any signs of intruders, even the birds are singing loudly in the trees this morning. 

He eyes the abandoned trailer as he passes it. He has half a mind to go inside, see if there’s anything scavengable, but he eventually decides against it, knowing that the others would have grabbed anything they deemed useful. 

He finds himself down by the lake, sitting on the grass, staring out into the large body of water. It’s murky water isn’t very picturesque, but the calmness of it is nice. 

He was always fascinated by the beauty in life, the pictures of places he could never afford to go, praying that one day he’d be lucky enough to catch a glimpse of something so perfect that it would take his breath away, it would make everything worth it.

The dirty lake isn’t it.

Harry took your breath away, he snorts when he thinks of how they first met, literally. Harry’s large hand clasped around his throat, a gun pressed to the side of his head.

He wonders what Harry was like before. He knows he has a sister, knows that Liam, Zayn, and him have been friends for a while, but everything else about the lad is a mystery. The only time he’s seen him with his guard down is when he’s sleeping or last night, but right after the words were out of his mouth the walls came right back up and he’d walked away, something Niall’s noticed that he does a lot.

He picks at the dressing on his hand. It’s dirty and needs to be changed, so he rips it off and sets it down in the grass next to him. He examines the wound. He did pop a stitch, but it’s nothing that he wants to risk wasting more supplies on, as it’s closing rather nicely. His knee has been feeling so much better now that he’s been resting it for a few days, and he cherishes every second of it because he knows there’s going to be a time where they’ll all be on the run again.

A noise startles him and he grabs for his knife while twisting around, ready to attack. 

“Woah, woah, it’s just me,” Harry responds, raising both hands in surrender.  
“Jesus,” Niall breathes, relaxes back into the grass and looks back out over the lake. Looking at Harry won’t calm his racing heart.

“Why are you off alone?” Harry asks, taking a seat next to the blond, “Louis will be worried sick when he wakes up.”

Niall shrugs, looks at Harry from the corner of his eye, “Dunno. Just wanted to clear my head a bit I guess.”

“Thinking about anything interesting?” the eyed boy questions.

“Thinking about all of the places I would’ve liked to go before all this,” he admits softly, “There’s some beautiful places out there.”

Harry hums in response. “You don’t think this is beautiful?” He jokes.

“It is in it’s own way,” he starts, takes a breath before continuing, “It’s like one of those things, you know? Like, when you see something so beautiful that you can’t even wrap your mind around it. It’s so picture perfect and you can’t believe you’re actually there, experiencing it. I want to be somewhere where I feel that,” he shuts himself up before he keeps rambling. He can feel the blush creeping up his neck.

“Wow,” Harry doesn’t know what to say because he’s speechless at Niall’s outburst. He’d never really thought about the world like that. Sure, there were places he wanted to see and things he wanted to do, but the way Niall just put it into words...he’s in awe.

“Have you ever felt that way?” Niall asks when Harry doesn’t say anything. He keeps his eyes trained on the water.

Harry hums, studying the boy next to him. Right now, he thinks before he looks back out over the lake. “I think so.”

The smaller boy nods in response. 

The pair sit together for a few minutes, both lost in their own minds. Neither of them know that the other is thinking about them, but the moment is nice. Peaceful and comforting in its own way.

When he hears the door to the van slam shut behind someone, Harry stuffs the discarded bandage sitting on the grass between him and Niall into the pocket of his skinny jeans and stands.

“What are you doing?” Niall questions, eyes watching the dressing.

“Keeping the Earth clean Niall.” Harry responds easily, “We couldn’t want to zoms to choke on it. Now c’mon, we better get going.” 

Niall cackles and Harry almost swoons.


	10. Day 839 (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alright you two, time to stop talking about planting and shit,” Louis throws the car into park and looks over his shoulder, smirking sadistically when he sees the compromised position the his friend and Zayn are in, “Oh, Zayn, are you trying to plant your seed in Niallers little garden?”

“And these ones are for radishes,” Zayn explains excitedly to Niall, holding a baggie of small circular seeds. 

Harry rolls his eyes for the third time in twenty minutes. He’s heard Zayn talk about his seed collection on multiple occasions since he’s started collecting them, and although he agrees that it is essential for their survival (granted they can find a place to stay long enough that allows them to grow such things), he doesn’t think it’s particularly interesting.

Niall, on the other hand, looks like he’s in absolute awe of Zayn. He’s looking at the older boy like he’s just found the cure for cancer or something and Harry selfishly wishes that Niall was looking at him that way. 

The blond has also been saying sweet things to Zayn, making him blush and spurring the seed-talk on for what feels like ages. Harry can’t stand Niall’s soft praises towards Zayn.

“They’re super important because even though they don’t taste that good, they grow the fastest,” he continues, mouth stretched so wide in a smile that Harry thinks his cheeks will split at any moment.

“Wow, Zayn, you know so much,” Niall compliments. He’s mostly being polite, having only asked Zayn if he could have some of those sunflower seeds he’d found in a bag he had mistaken for his. Zayn had snatched the bag out of his hands quickly and explained that he was saving them and all of the others in that bag to grow more. Surprised at how good that idea was, he asked what else was in the bag, not knowing that Zayn would look like a kid on Christmas morning, pulling all of the bags out and explaining each one to him in vast detail.

It was quite endearing the way Zayn lit up, so now he’s just going along with it. Not like there’s much else to do on the way to nowhere anyways.

The black haired boy's cheeks flush pink and he stows away the bag to keep his hands busy. “I used to study horticulture,” he shrugs sheepishly, “Wanted to grow my own strands of weed and shit.”

He’s pulling out another clear bag from his pack when Harry groans loudly and scoots down the bench towards the front bench seat. He slides over the seat awkwardly and he ends up kicking Liam who’s riding shotgun (with a shotgun in hands, how funny) in the back of the head.

“Ow, what the hell are you doing?” his friend questions, pressing closer into the door.

Harry ignores Louis sarcastic comment of, “Yeah, cuz you can totally sit up here with us, big guy,” and says, “Zayn’s talking about his seeds again.” Liam grunts and Harry knows he gets it.

“They just don’t get it,” Zayn says to Niall, quiet enough so the others don’t hear, “This stuff is actually important, could last us a lifetime, if we do it right. All the food in markets is going to go bad sooner than later, and when the time comes, I’ll be ready.”

Niall places a gentle hand on Zayn’s shoulder and the onyx haired boy stops his feverish packing of the seeds. “Of course it’s important Z,” he says softly, holding the gaze of the boy in front of him, “You’re gonna save the world with all of this one day.”

“Dunno about the world,” he mumbles, “But hopefully at least us. Permitting we can find a place to settle down, that is.”

“We will,” he says but he knows neither of them quite believe it, “We will.”

It’s quiet between the two as he watches Zayn pack up his things neatly inside the little black bag. When it zips shut, Niall leans over from the seat to grab his own bag. 

He holds it up and waves it around, “Lie down and let me check out this leg.”

Zayn pouts playfully but does as he’s told, lying across the bench seat on his stomach, head propped up on his folded arms so he can watch Niall do his thing. 

The blond tries unsuccessfully to roll up Zayn’s jeans enough to be able to look at the wound properly and he gives up trying to force the denim up the boy's leg when Zayn lets out a low whine of pain.

“Sorry,” Niall murmurs, “I can’t get to it because of your pants.”

Zayn smirks, “Yeah, I do remember you having to shred the ones I had on. I’d rather hate to lose my last pair too.” He flips around onto his back, kicking his shoes off and placing his sock clad feet into the cushion of the seat to prop his hips up so he can slide the black jeans down around his bum.

Niall busies himself with pulling out fresh gauze from his bag, trying to hide the blush on his face. It’s not that he’s attracted to Zayn per se (with a body and face like that how could you not be?), but it’s been awhile since he’s gotten off and he doesn’t need to sprout a boner while he’s trying to check on Zayn’s wound. He unpacks a few other things he thinks he might need: the expired ointment, painkillers, and medical tape. 

“Alright doctor Niall,” Zayn says, wiggling his eyebrows at Niall when the blue eyed boy looks up, “Do yo thang.”

He pulls out the folded blanket he and Louis slept on last night and folds it under his knee so he’s not kneeling directly onto the hard floor. If he stays like this too long or they run over a nsty bump in the road, his knee will surely hurt. 

The wound seems to be looking a bit better in his opinion. The skin is red and a little puff where it’s being held together by the uneven stitches and he hopes it’s not getting infected from the lake water. 

“Did you go into the lake?” He asks, poking and prodding around, watching Zayn’s face for any sort of reaction. He winces slightly, but makes no other noise of being harmed. 

“Yeah,” he admits, “I know it wasn’t the smartest thing for me to do but God Niall, getting clean sounded too appealing.”

“I get that,” he murmurs his agreement, reaching for the ointment he’d set out.

“Is it infected?” 

He can hear the worry in Zayn’s voice clear as day. He understands what Zayn meant about getting clean, but going in the dirty water like that and exposing his wound is high risk. If it gets infected and they can’t stop it, Zayn could end up very sick, and they don’t have the medical supplies to help him heal from something worse. If he ended up dead from an infected wound on his leg, well, they all know what would happen then.

“I don’t think so,” he smears a generous amount of ointment onto his leg, “But do not go into another lake until this is healed, yeah?”

“Aye eye, captain,” the dark haired lad says. After Niall’s wrapped his leg in fresh gauze again he stands to put his pants back on and of course, this is when Louis decides it’s a nice time to stop the car. 

Louis has always been a terrible driver and Niall can vividly remember the many times he’s had to brace himself against the door and dashboard when Louis would drive them to class.

The abrupt breaking of the car sends Zayn tumbling over into Niall, knocking them both to the dirty carpet with Niall pinned underneath Zayn.

“Alright you two, time to stop talking about planting and shit,” Louis throws the car into park and looks over his shoulder, smirking sadistically when he sees the compromised position the his friend and Zayn are in, “Oh, Zayn, are you trying to plant your seed in Niallers little garden?”

Niall blushes bright red and groans at his friend's lame joke. Zayn looks confused, like he doesn’t get the joke and Harry looks pissed.

“Fuck off Lou.”

He avoids Harry’s blazing green eyes, although he’s not quite sure what he’s so furious about and opts for telling Zayn to get off of him.

“Oh, right, yeah,” he stutters and climbs quickly off of the smaller boy. He snatches his pants that had fallen on the seat during their fall and Niall scoots closer to the front, leaning over the seat.

“So, where are we?”

Harry stares at him a moment longer before turning towards Liam. “Open the door. Need to stretch my legs,” he grunts and Liam does what he says without question, although he does throw a questioning glance towards the curly haired bloke.

“What’s crawled up your ass all of a sudden?” he asks after Harry’s slammed the car door shut behind him, shutting them off from the other three. He knows that he shouldn’t have done that, in case there are any zoms or humans wanting to ransack them waiting, but he couldn’t help himself, the image of Zayn in boxers splayed out on top of Niall replaying in his mind.

“Nothing,” he mutters, “Always get like this in a new place. Need to be alert.”

Liam looks like he’s not totally convinced, but he doesn’t mention it as the other three are now climbing out of the van, weapons in hands. 

Niall’s wearing his backpack on his back, having emptied out a few things to make more room in case they find something worth taking. Louis looks much the same with his own pack slung across his shoulders, his shotgun already nestled in the crook of his underarm.

He’s carrying the car keys in his pocket and whatever they do, they can’t lose him or they’ll all be stranded.

“Alright,” Louis starts as they circle up. They’re on the edge of the next town, haven’t seen one zom yet, but no one’s sure if that’s a good or bad thing. They’ve all rested and had their day off, but now it’s time to get serious. “We’re just here to have a look around, see if there’s anything useful, and then we’re out. The town doesn’t look too big,” he says, glancing down the short street, “Maybe a few blocks or so. In any case, we stick together, everyone keeps their eyes peeled. If something happens, try to stick with at least one person from the group. Meet back at the van by sunset if we get split. Now, let’s go.”

Niall’s not really sure how he ended up at the back of the group but it was clear that Harry didn’t want him around him, could barely stand next to him while they were going over the plan, shifting slightly further and further away, so he lets himself fall further towards the back of the five of them without noticing. 

If they had done it right, he and Zayn would be in the middle because they’re the most injured. Instead, Louis and Harry take the lead, slinking stealthily through the town, peeking into stores with broken windows, guns raised and ready to shoot. Liam and Zayn trail behind, Zayn trying to keep his leg from dragging slightly on the hard pavement. Niall brings up the rear, glancing around skittishly, because the paranoia has settled in.

They pass by the third store with a broken-through storefront, when something catches Niall’s eye. There’s something the sun is reflecting off of, and if he squints he can see that it’s a wrapped package of batteries. 

He deems it useful and turns to call out to the other boys who’ve kept moving ahead and are now two stores down the block. He’s ready to run to catch up with them when hands reach out through the space of the broken window and snatch him inside.

He struggles to scream, but there’s hands covering his mouth and eyes, hands pinning him to the ground, hands disarming him. There are hands everywhere. 

Sheer panic rips through his body and this is much, much worse than zoms, he thinks.

It’s humans.

Now, as Harry turns his head to motion to the other boys the plan for excavating the next block of shops, he only counts three heads.

His heart leaps and picks up pace like the engine of a car sputtering to life after having not been used in so long, eyes fluttering around the group urgently. 

“Where’s Niall?”


	11. Day 839 (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Holy shit Liam, were you even aiming at the tire,” Louis yells, fingers gripping the front row seat tightly.

“You keep yer fucking mouth shut when I move my hand or we’ll fuckin’ kill ya kid,” the voice threatens and shakes Niall harshly for good measure. 

He nods frantically, because having his eyes and mouth covered is doing no good for the panic attack he’s about to have. At least the hands pinning him down are gone now, having bound his wrists and ankles together with something that’s tight enough that it’s already making his hands and feet lose feeling. 

Slowly, the hand is removed from his mouth. He gulps down air as fast as he can, still disoriented because of the hand covering his eyes, but then something’s being shoved into his mouth and tied around the back of his head. 

It’s fabric, this much he knows, and it’s so dirty that he thinks he can actually taste exactly how many times this has been drug through the dirt, wiped off sweat and god knows what else off of someone.

He gags. 

“If you vomit, you’re swallowing it,” the voice says and he can hear the hint of a cruel smile on the person’s face.

When the hand is removed from his eyes he looks around frantically at his capturers, gathering as much information about them as he can. There’s two males and a female, all as equally dirty as the next. The one he assumes is the leader is easily three times the size of him, and he’s staring down at him with a hungry look that terrifies him even more. 

The second man is tall and lanky, much like Harry but not nearly as good looking. In fact, he’s missing an arm, cut cleanly off at the elbow, and Niall wonders if he’d been bitten or had that injury since before. His back is to him, but he can tell the man has dark hair pulled into what can only be described as a nest with how dirty and tangled it is at the back of his head.

The woman on the contrary, has a shaved head and her eyes are shining the same way the man’s are, like she’s not eaten in days and is looking at a feast. His mouth is dry and he swallows hard around the fabric. It’s when she murmurs about how he’s too skinny but at least he’s clean that he realizes. His eyes widen and he starts struggling against the restraints.

He’s 100% sure they’re cannibals and he’s about to become their next meal. 

“Let’s just get him out of here already,” the second man says, joining the group from where he stood by the window, “Before his friends come looking.”

“Got some good friends eh?” the leader smirks, caressing his dirty nails across Niall’s cheek. He presses closer to the floor, trying to get the man's disgusting hands off of him. “Didn’t even notice you were gone.”

No, he thinks, They’ve noticed by now and are thinking up a plan. It’s not the least bit reassuring him because he knows how Louis is and that at the first sign of Niall missing, he’d be running up and down the streets like a banshee, plan be damned. 

“Seen ya coming before you even got out the car,” he laughs harshly as Niall struggles on the floor in front of him. “Noticed you and the black haired one limping, you got a bite down there?” He kicks at Niall’s leg and the blond holds back a grunt of pain, biting harshly into the fabric that’s stuffed into his mouth. 

“You should’ve been in the middle. A small thing like you needs protection in this world,” he continues.

“C’mon Charlie, they’ll be running around here any minute,” the other man speaks, casting a glare over his shoulder.

***

“Oh fuck, oh fuck oh fuck, oh fuck,” Louis’ a broken record, repeating the same thing over and over again since Harry’s pulled them all into the back room of the nearest store to get them out of sight. They know they’re not alone now, but they don’t know how many people are out there, all they know is that they’ve got Niall.

Louis is a right mess, on the verge of tears because how could they have been so stupid? He should’ve been walking with Niall, not arguing with Harry about the best way to maneuver around the town. Now the blond is missing and he can only blame himself. 

“Louis, shut the fuck up. We’re going to find him,” Harry says. He’s freaking out too, but he’s choosing to push the thoughts of what’s happening to Niall away in favor of trying to formulate a plan. He’s pacing back and forth in the small room and the sight is making Liam dizzy.

“Look, the town’s not that big,” Liam says, “We can start by going back the way we came. The longer we stay here, the longer they have to get away.”

“What if they’ve got people hiding, ready to shoot us? What if we're already surrounded?” Zayn asks. They haven’t seen other humans besides Niall and Louis in a while, and usually they’re not too keen on seeing them.

“I don’t care,” Louis finally snaps out of his stupor, “I’ve got to find him. He’s all I’ve got left.”

***

He’s ziptied, he realizes when the bigger man joins the other one by the window and he has a moment to focus on something other than the scary man who keeps petting him. 

Okay, zip ties, he racks his brain, I can get out of these, easy. I’ve seen videos about this. I’ve just got to get into the right position and–

“Get him up and to the car,” Charlie, the known leader now, says to the other two. “Miri, you keep lookout,” she nods, a twisted smile showing as she pulls out a long blade from the side of her boot.

He tries twisting away from the hands that are reaching towards him, his heart racing stupidly fast, and he’s full on panicking now. He knows that if they get him into the car, he’ll never see the boys again.

He manages to kick the skinny man away with his two feet to his chest, and the man stumbles backwards, tripping over some rubbish on the floor, falling with a grunt. Niall can only hope that that has caused enough noise to get his friends attention because he barely has time to look away from the man on the floor who’s now sitting up and glaring at him before Charlie's dirty fist comes flying his way. 

His head lols to the side, the force of the punch having knocked him flat onto the floor beneath him. His groan of pain is swallowed by the fabric stuffed in his mouth. His vision is spotty and his head is throbbing. He’s surprised the punch didn’t knock him out cold.

The room spins as he feels himself being picked up and slung across someone’s shoulders. He’s so disoriented that he doesn’t even know what’s going on for a few seconds, the voices of whoever’s talking sound like they’re so far away right now, and then it all slams into him full force.

He wants so badly to curl up and kick this disgusting man in the face, but he can barely move, Charlie’s grip like a vice.

He fights with his life, but it’s no use. Nothing he does phases Charlie in the slightest. He screams and squirms, but he knows it’s useless. Niall twists his head around painfully, as far as he can manage, trying to look behind them to see if he can see his friends. 

He sees nothing.

They’re coming up on a beat up car quickly now, and then the back door is opening and he’s being thrown onto the backseat. He scrambles to sit up, lunging for the door, but it’s slammed in his face. He pulls on the handle but the door doesn’t open. 

Niall’s heart sinks. 

“Don’t even fucking try.” The car itself jostles when Charlie climbs into the seat in front of him.

Tears spill out and Niall whimpers, the only thing he can do now is memorize where they’re going. Maybe he’ll have a chance to escape when they get wherever they’re taking him. 

***

“Drive faster,” Louis yells at him from the back seat.

“I’m trying,” Harry grits out, “It doesn’t go any faster.”

“Shoot the windows out or something!”

“We can’t risk shooting at the windows because Niall’s in there! What if we accidentally hit him!”

“What about shooting at the tires?” Zayn suggests warily, counting the bullets in the clip before replacing it back in the gun.

Harry and Liam share a look, “That could work.”

***

“Shit,” Charlie mutters, glancing in the rear view mirror at something. 

Niall steals a look and a rush of relief fills his body when he sees the pink van in the distance before the woman is pushing his head down onto her lap in case the boys haven’t figured out that he’s with them. 

His mind races. Niall knows that there’s no way that the van is fast enough to catch up to the car he’s in now. He’s going to have to do something to slow the car down so that the boys can get to him. 

Well, this is going to hurt, he braces himself as he twists his body, bringing his head up and smashing it into the woman’s face. The crunch of her nose being shoved back into her skull is sickening, but he can’t think about it as her body slumps on top of his. 

He pushes up, her body falling into the door and he’s reaching over the driver's seat with his bound hands, wrapping them around Charlie’s neck and pulling backwards as hard as he can. 

The car swerves wildly for a moment, and the burly man grabs at Niall’s hands in his own. He doesn’t make it far as the other man slams his gun into the side of Niall’s head and the boy goes slack, his arms loosening from around Charlie’s neck who shoves the boy off with a grunt.

“He’s got some fight, I’ll give him that.”

***

“What’s going on?”

“Why is the car swerving like that?”

The boys in the van are all squinting to watch through the dirty rear view window of the car that has their friend trapped in the back. 

“Holy shit Niall, what the fuck are you doing,” Harry mutters under his breath as the car nearly drives off the road. His foot is pinning the gas pedal down to the ground but the van won’t go any faster. They’ve caught up only slightly since the car veered into the other lane, but the terrifying reality that Niall might not be okay when the car straightens out and starts moving faster settles like a brick in all of their stomachs.

“He tried to slow the car down,” Louis' voice is thick with unshed tears as he can only think of the worst possible things happening to the small blond in the car in front of them. “Liam, you've got to shoot. They’re going to get away.”

He’d already been halfway out the window when the car started swerving, preparing to shoot the tires out, but watching the scene unfold had him slumping back into his seat to watch with a bad feeling in his stomach. Now that the car seems to be moving in a straight line again, he’s already leaning out the window once more. 

***

“She’s dead,” the man in the passenger seat confirms, having reached over the seat to check Miri’s pulse. 

“You know what to do,” Charlie grunts, stepping on the gas further, the car shifting into a higher gear and picking up speed, “Before she turns all of us.”

The younger man snatches her blade from the seat and swiftly shoves it into the side of her head, piercing her brain so she doesn’t turn into a zombie.

He sees the pink van slowly getting smaller and he eyes the blond boy passed out in the backseat before he sits and turns back in his seat to get comfortable.

“Is he really worth all of this trouble?”

Charlie glares, “We’re running low on food. Reckon he’d last us at least a month.”

Suddenly, the back window shatters and the man in the passenger seat slumps forward, dead. His brains are splattered across the front windshield that is now shattered into such tiny pieces that Charlie can barely see through it. He twists the wheel of the car again as another shot rings off, hunching down in his seat a little.

“These fuckin kids.”

***

“Holy shit Liam, were you even aiming at the tire,” Louis yells, fingers gripping the front row seat tightly.

“It’s not my fault we went over a bump,” he calls back. It’s hard to see with the wind whipping over his face, but he’s doing his best. In his defense, they really did go over a bump right as he pulled the trigger.

He lets out a steady breath after setting up his shot and the bullet hits its mark this time. The tire explodes and sparks immediately start flying up from the metal rubbing against the road. The car struggles to stay in a straight line, and the driver slams on the brakes, but it still careens off of the road towards the open field they are passing. 

The driver jumps out of the car and takes off running. The thing is, there’s nowhere for him to run, it’s just an open field. They come up to the stopped vehicle quickly, and Harry hops out of the front seat, barely putting the car into park. Louis is already out the back of the van and racing over to the abandoned vehicle, Harry hot on his heels. 

Liam and Zayn aren’t far behind, but they’re aiming their guns at the man in the field who is desperately trying to get away, running in a zigzag pattern.

But Liam’s got great aim, despite shooting into the window a few seconds ago, and the man falls into the dirt, doesn’t get back up.

Louis wrenches the back door open and catches an unconscious Niall in his arms. The two of them fall to the ground, Louis hadn’t been prepared for him to fall out of the car, and he’s sobbing into the blond's shoulder, clutching him tightly to his chest. 

“Oh my god Niall, I am so sorry bub,” he nuzzles into his neck, “Please wake up.”

Harry’s stunned for a moment, seeing the blond's lifeless body fall into Louis’ lap. He feels like he might throw up, at how broken and dead Niall looks. Liam’s gunshot startles him into moving, sinking down next to the pair and pressing his fingers to the pulse point on Niall’s neck. 

He lets out a sigh of relief when he feels the strong pulse thrumming under his fingertips.


	12. Day 839 (Part 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Never had someone want to eat me before,” he shrugs, staring directly into the light leather dashboard, shuddering when the words of the man replay in his mind. He rubs at his raw wrist, focusing on the sting. He tries to make it sound like a joke, but his voice fails him, breaking, “That’s a pretty good compliment, right?”

His head is pounding when he comes to. There’s a dull throbbing behind his eye and his wrists and ankles are aching. Everything that happened right before he blacked out comes back to him and he’s sitting up quickly, ignoring the rush of blood that makes him dizzy, pushing away from the person who’s got their arms wrapped around him. 

In his haze, he doesn’t realize that his limbs are no longer bound together tightly and the bitter tasting rag isn’t tied around his mouth. He doesn’t even notice that he’s completely away from harm and in the back of the van, Louis and Harry crouched around him with worried looks.

He opens his mouth to scream, blue eyes scared and flitting around, unable to recognize his surroundings. Louis is trying to get his attention, holding his hands up in surrender and Niall takes in the terrified look in his best friend's blue eyes, the unshed tears and ‘I’m sorry’s’ he’s not yet spoken, and it clicks. 

“Louis?” his voice sounds timid, broken, like he can’t actually believe what he’s seeing.

Relief floods the older boy's eyes, “Yeah, Ni, it’s me.”

The blond breaks then, overwhelmed with relief, tears spilling over and he cries out, sounding so heartbroken that all four other boys' chests ache with guilt. Louis wastes no time, pulling on Niall’s forearm gently, watching for his wrists, and the blond falls into his arms, boneless.

Louis can’t help his own tears from falling as he holds the younger boy as close as he can, choking out, “It’s alright Ni, you’re safe now.”

“They were–they were gonna fucking eat me Lou,” Niall wails and he feels Louis body turn to steel beneath him. Louis and Harry share a look over Niall’s shoulder, and even Zayn and Liam turn from the front seat, eyes wide and blazing with anger.

“We wouldn’t let them babes,” he tries to soothe the boy, but Niall’s not stopping yet, “They’re gone now. They can’t get you.”

Niall doesn’t know if he should be mad at his friends for not noticing that he’d stayed behind, or if he should be angry with himself for getting distracted so easily to be left behind. He wants so badly to yell at them, still scared out of his mind, shaking in Louis' arms, even though Louis has just told him that they were all dead. Wants to scream and ask them why they’d leave him like that, does he mean anything to them or is he just dead weight anyways.

He keeps his mouth shut in the end.

He’s not oblivious to the tense air he feels around him, radiating through the van like wildfire. He figures the boys are worried, that they’d never leave him on purpose, that he’s just as important to the team as the rest of them. 

He calms down rather quickly, swallowing back tears so that he doesn’t seem as weak as he feels. He already looks puny compared to any of the boys, all he does is make mistakes and endangers himself, which, in turn, endangers them all. 

He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, sits up, and turns away from the curious glances following his every move. He examines his wrists and ankles to busy himself. They’re red and sting when he glides his fingers over them gently, shuddering as he remembers how helpless he felt. There’s no need to waste any of their medical supplies on the areas, so instead he busies himself by reaching for his pack and pulling out the painkillers.

“Here,” a deep voice startles him and he looks over his shoulder to see Harry with a soft look in his eyes, holding out a water for him to take.

He nods his thanks and takes the bottle silently. He pops the top off and when the water touches past his lips he finds himself nearly guzzling the whole bottle down, unaware of just how thirsty he had been.

He forces himself to stop halfway through the bottle, half for fear of looking like a feral animal in front of the other boys, and half because he remembers the two pain pills clutched in his other hand. Niall tosses them in his mouth and washes them down with another sip of water.

Afterwards, he plays with the rubix cube Louis found a few days ago. It’s half-hearted because he’s colorblind, but he needs something to do, something to avoid all of the worried glances being sent his way making him anxious and tense. 

Eventually, when the sun sets and he can no longer differentiate the colors of the cubes, he puts the toy aside and listens in to the quiet conversation being had towards the front of the car.

“We should stop soon,” Liam suggests. They’d been driving for hours and now the gas tank was sufficiently low again, “We’ve only got a quarter tank left.”

“How close is the next town?” Harry asks, having not noticed the last highway sign they’d passed, too busy peeking at the blond to see if he was okay. 

“Too far for us to get to with barely any gas,” Zayn adds, “But I did see a sign for a rest stop a few miles ahead. We can stop there for the night. Hopefully there’s some abandoned cars with gas left in them.”

As soon as the vehicle rolls to a stop, Niall’s crawling out of the back door, an extra gun tucked under his arm.

“Where are you going?” Louis calls out after him, climbing quickly out the way Niall went.

“Gotta piss,” Niall shrugs, “Gonna patrol, too.”

“You don’t have to do this Niall,” his friend tries to reason, worried about Niall’s behavior, “We can patrol, make sure the area’s clear–”

“You think I can’t do it?” Niall’s clearly irritated. He repositions the gun in his grip and spins on his heel, blue eyes blazing, “Think I’m just some helpless kid who’s no good for anything?”

“Niall, that’s not what I–” Louis tries to protest, but Niall’s already stalked away into the night. Louis shoulders slump, defeated.

“I’ll go after him,” Zayn murmurs, limping quickly off after the other boy. He finds Niall inside the small building, gun raised to shoot anything that moves. 

The blond peeks over his shoulder, at the screech the door gives when the black haired boy ambles through, knife clenched in his hand for backup. He rolls his eyes and goes back to scanning the room, “Leave me alone Zayn.”

“You know I can’t do that,” the older boy responds, kicking open one of the bathroom doors. Niall swings into the small room, shoving stall doors open with his feet. The room is clear. “Strength in numbers and all that.”

“Didn’t seem like your main priority when I was left behind,” Niall fires back, giving him an icy glare before closing one of the stall doors behind him. He leans the gun up against the door and starts to do his business.

“Niall,” Zayn sighs, and he knows he’s about to get the lecture of his life.

“Save it Zayn. I don’t wanna hear it,” he zips up his pants, grabs the gun again and tries to leave the stall, but Zayn is blocking him in.

“Well you’re gonna hear it,” he demands Niall’s attention, “I’m sorry but what happened earlier was never meant to happen. We should’ve all been looking out for each other, and we let you down Niall. You can say it, we know we fucked up but you’re here now, and that’s all that matters to us. You’re safe now.”

“You don’t get it,” Niall laughs but there’s no humor behind it, “They were going to fucking eat me. I didn’t know where any of you were and when they took me to their car I didn’t think that I’d even make it out alive.” His eyes are red with unshed tears, “I couldn’t even fight against them.”

He knows he looks helpless because Zayn pulls him into a tight hug, “You’re not helpless. You did what you could and that helped us get you.”

“I killed her though,” he sniffles, “I didn’t want to kill her, but they were going to kill me Z. I didn’t know what else to do.”

“You did what you had to do,” the older boy soothes, “Not everyone can be like us. Some people are still bad after all of this is said and done, and you’re not one of them Ni. You’re not a bad guy.”

The blond buries his head further into the crook of Zayn’s neck, “I don’t want to be weak.”

“You’re not,” he pets Niall’s hair, “You’re so strong. We’re just worried about you. We’d be worried if it were any of us. Wouldn’t you be worried if it was me?”

The younger boy pulls away, eyes wide, “Of course I’d be worried about you Z.”

“See? We’re not trying to make you feel weak Niall, we’re worried because we care.”

***

After apologizing to Louis, who is more than willing to forgive him, and after a feast of expired candy bars and Mountain Dew he and Zayn found in the abandoned vending machine, he offers himself up for the first watch. He knows he’s not going to be able to fall asleep, and if he does, he knows exactly what he’ll be seeing behind his closed eyes.

What he’s not prepared for is for Harry to take watch with him. 

They end up taking watch in the front seat of the car, leaving the benches and shag rug to the three who sleep first shift and Niall’s got his head pressed up against the window, counting the stars.

“I’m sorry,” Harry’s voice surprises him. He’d thought that they’d be sitting in silence for most of the shift, despite the few talks that they’ve already shared. Harry’s nice when he wants to be, and absolutely dreadful to be around when he’s not. He looks towards the younger boy, who's pulling at his lower lip and avoiding eye contact with all his might. Niall figures he doesn’t do this often. “About earlier.”

“Never had someone want to eat me before,” he shrugs, staring directly into the light leather dashboard, shuddering when the words of the man replay in his mind. He rubs at his raw wrist, focusing on the sting. He tries to make it sound like a joke, but his voice fails him, breaking, “That’s a pretty good compliment, right?”

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Harry says softly. He wants so desperately to reach out and hug Niall, hold him and whisper sweet things into his ear, make him believe that it wasn’t his fault, but he keeps his hands to himself.

“Do what?” the blond responds dully, leaning his head back against the window, now searching for any constellation he knows, having lost count of the stars.

“You don’t have to pretend like it was nothing,” Harry goes to explain, but he waits to see if Niall looks like he’s going to react badly, before he takes a breath and carries on, “You’re allowed to be scared and upset and have feelings.”

Niall’s head whips to look at Harry so fast that the younger boy is surprised he didn’t hear his neck crack in protest. Harry sends a nervous glance towards the boy across from him and then avoids eye contact, picking at the steering wheel, embarrassed to have clearly crossed a line. 

“Emotions get you fucked up in this world,” Niall rasps, his voice thick with emotion again. He swallows the thick saliva in his mouth harshly and his throat burns with unshed tears. He’d already talked about it with Zayn, and he’s not sure if he wants to have this conversation with Harry of all people, but the look on the boy’s face has him humoring him.

“Yeah, I guess they do,” Harry agrees quietly. 

They sit in silence for a while, save for the soft snores of the three boys sleeping soundly in the back, until Niall finally speaks, “I didn’t think I’d have to ever kill another human after–” the words get caught in his throat.

Harry doesn’t push because he gets it, he does. He’d never thought he would ever have to do some of the things he’s done to survive the end of the world. There are things that haunt his nightmares every single night, things he will never speak of again, for his own good. 

“You don’t have to…” he trails off.

Niall shakes his head, “I don’t want to.” 

Neither of them makes the move to speak again, both off in their own minds. Harry glances at the blond every so often, trying to get a read on him, and if Niall notices his green eyes staring his way every other ten minutes, he chooses not to say.

It’s when he watches Niall start to drift off, head lolling low towards his chest, only to jerk up again, does Harry suggest delicately, “You should get some rest.”

Niall shakes his head, trying to wake himself up. He sits up higher in the seat, saying, “No, I’m okay.”

“You’ve had a long day,” Harry tries to reason. He winces when he sees the fear in Niall’s eyes as he relives what happened earlier in the day. “You have to be exhausted.”

The older boy bites his lip, peeking over at Harry. When he sees how soft and worried Harry looks, he sighs, admitting that he’s too afraid to go to sleep.

“Because I’ll have to relive it,” he murmurs softly, answering Harry’s quiet ‘why?’ “And I really don’t want to do that.” 

And the other boy gets it, he’s pretty sure they all do. He can’t count the number of times he’s startled awake by his own nightmares, how many times Liam or Zayn had to shake him out of his own personal living hell. 

“Maybe you just need some help?” Harry offers lamely.

Niall snorts, “You got a magic potion or something?” 

If only, he thinks, before shaking his head, “No, but I do have these,” he waves his hands around.

“I’m going to have to pass on being knocked out again to get some decent sleep,” Niall retorts, his mouth lifting up in a small smile.

Harry can’t help letting out a loud cackle, his eyes widening as he slaps his hands firmly over his mouth. He glares at Niall who’s body is shaking in silent laughter and his heart only settles when he knows he hasn’t woken up any of the other boys. 

“No, I meant,” his cheeks burn, “Like, my mum used to do this thing when I was little and I had a nightmare, and I don’t know, maybe it’s stupid, but I thoguht it might help.” He shrugs helplessly. 

Niall’s heart only melts a little. Harry’s being so kind to him, which he quite thinks looks good on the taller boy, and here he is, trying to make a joke of it. He finds himself agreeing, seeing the glint of sadness in Harry’s eyes. “Okay, yeah, we can try it.”

“Yeah? We don’t have to, if you’re not comfortable,” Harry stutters, his nerves picking up a little at the thought.

“I want to,” Niall presses, nodding, and the way he’s looking at him with those big blue eyes makes Harry want to drown in them.

“Okay,” he responds breathlessly, “You, um, have to lie down though.”

“Sure,” Niall agrees easily. He assesses the small bench in the front, noticing that there isn’t going to be enough room for him to lie comfortably up here.

Harry apparently notices the same thing because he suggests, “You can put your head on my lap.”

He doesn’t miss the way the blond hides his face when he shifts closer, laying his head gently on Harry’s warm thigh. Both of their hearts are pounding and Niall’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to fall asleep like this.

“Is it okay if I touch you?” 

Niall swallows hard and opts for nodding, not trusting his voice right now. 

Harry moves his hand closer but pulls away two times before he builds the courage and actually touches the blond. It’s different from the other times, and even though he’s literally had Niall in his lap, this is different, more intimate now that it’s just the two of them. 

He carefully swipes the longer hair from Niall’s forehead, his warm fingertips dancing lightly across his skin. His next move is more confident, twining his fingers into the blond locks and massaging the boy’s head lightly, scratching and thumbing softly, just like his mum used to do.

Niall lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “This is nice Harry,” he admits, the repetition of Harry’s movements calming him into a state where he’s so close to dozing off, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome Ni,” the younger boy says, swiping his thumb over Niall’s forehead once more, smoothing over his tense brows, “You can go to sleep. I’ve got you.” I’ll protect you.


	13. Day 840

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We should go.” No one protests as they begin to head back to the van. Harry passes the keys over to Niall whose face lights up. “Fuck yes, it’s about time,” the blond beams, eyes sparkling as he flips the keys around his finger by the keychain. Harry bites back his own grin and watches, amused, when Louis comments, “oh god,” when he sees the keys in Niall’s possession and then the two start bickering about who is the better driver.
> 
> “I’m not the one that crashed my driver’s education car,” Louis mutters loudly.
> 
> “You’re such a reckless driver,” Niall retorts, “At least I can stay inside the lines on the road.”
> 
> Louis rolls his eyes, scoffing, “Yeah, because staying in the lines is so important right now. I’ll surely be more careful, with all this traffic and all.”

“This absolutely fucking sucks,” Harry pants. He’s pushing a rotted car from behind, Louis next to him and Zayn is in the front seat, steering. Rust flakes off onto his hands and sweat is pouring down his face, the blaring sun beating down on his back, “Who’s idea was this anyway?”

The brunette glares at him, and for the first time in his life he chooses not to reply smartly to someone. He can’t anyways, his mouth is too dry.

After getting back on the road at first light, they’d run into a small traffic jam of abandoned cars blocking the road. They couldn’t drive around the mass of cars, the shoulder of the road was too steep for the van. They had thought about turning around, but they were low on gas, and they decided that they could look for gas while moving the cars out of the way of the vans path. It was a no brainer, none of them wanting to sacrifice the vehicle to keep moving on foot, while Zayn and Niall’s legs are still healing.

“Hey boys,” Niall’s voice pulls their attention. He’s sitting comfortably in the front seat of a red convertible, grinning widely at the three. It still looks pristine, except for the peeling leather seats inside from sitting in the sun for way too long. He’s got Harry’s sunglasses on (and wait, how did he get those?) but God does he look delicious.

Harry stops pushing the car, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his hip across the back of the vehicle. “Those mine?” he nods at the sunglasses on Niall’s face.

The smaller boy pushes the glasses up, blue eyes twinkling and a cheshire grin on his face. It seems like their talk helped last night, Niall acting a little more like himself today. Harry can’t hold back his own smile.

“These old things? Hang on, let me check,” Niall responds coolly, turning down the viser to check himself out in the mirror, “Ohhh, yeah, yup, these are definitely not mine.” He sends a sly grin over to the taller boy before flipping the mirror back up, but as he does so, the corner catches his eye as it snaps back up into place. He lets out a squawk and covers his eye quickly with his hand.

Louis drops the irritated look on his face and bursts out laughing at his clumsy best friend. “Oh my gosh Nialler, that was too perfect,” he gasps out between his laughs.

Niall turns beet red as all of the boys cackle at his misfortune, but after taking a look at each boy, genuine smiles on their faces, he finds himself also grinning. They needed this, a good laugh after a hard time, the tightness of their shoulders ebbing away slowly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m a joke, I’m a joke,” he rolls his eyes, “Let’s go Liam.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to do this anymore,” Louis complains, resting his head on the arm he has folded over the trunk of the car.

“You think you don’t want to do this,” Liam remarks, “At least you’ve got Harry helping you, I’ve gotta push Niall’s big arse around all by myself.”

“Hey,” Niall whines, “Louis’ arse is bigger!”

“No doubt,” Zayn adds, sticking his tongue out at Louis who had made a face of disdain towards the black haired boy.

“Alright, alright,” Harry catches all of their attention, “Back to work, we’re almost done now.”

“Hey, check out the horsepower on this guy,” Niall says. He pats the dashboard of the car but nods his head towards Liam at the back of the car, “700 horsepower, easy.”

This sends the boys into another bout of laughter and by the time they calm down, Harry’s not sure if he’s wiping a tear or sweat from his face.

“Okay for real though, we gotta finish this so we can get out of here,” Louis declares, looking around, scoping out the long stretch of highway, “We’ve been sitting ducks out here for too long.”

This sobers the rest of the group up, Liam pushing the red car away with ease, his taut muscles straining against the fabric of his t-shirt.

After a few more cars and Niall and Zayn watching with amusement, they’ve sufficiently cleared a path for their van to maneuver through. The line of cars they’ve moved is uneven and they may have crashed some into each other, but overall, Harry thinks they did a good job.

“Now we have to find gas,” Liam announces, wiping his brow with the bottom of his shirt, showing off his impressive abs. Niall whistles and him while Louis cat calls him playfully at the same time. Liam rolls his eyes in response to the two.

“We should split up, it’ll be quicker to check the cars over,” Louis says. He looks absolutely drained from the amount of work it took to move all of the cars. 

Harry shrugs, still panting a little from the effort of pushing the last big truck out of the way. It was easily almost three times the size of any of the other cars and it needed all of the boys’ help to move the monstrous thing. “Works for me.”

“Zayn, Niall, you stay closer to the van,” Liam tells them, and the two boys look like they are going to protest, but a glare from Louis has them nodding along. 

“I’ll take that end,” Harry points to the far end of the line, where they had just moved the last car and he begins trudging his way up the line. Liam and Louis walk with him until they reach a third of the way, where Liam drops off to begin his search, while Louis stays with him until they hit the second third, where Louis will stay.

The line of cars isn’t that long, maybe twenty cars or so, but right now it feels like he has to walk four miles to reach the end of this thing. He’s tired beyond belief, even though they have had a mostly easy past few days, with the exception of Niall being taken, but exerting his energy and not having enough food or water, mixed with the hot sun burning at his skin, he feels like he could fall asleep right here on the pavement.

The faster you find the gas, the faster you can take a nap.

He begins his search, skipping the big truck and kicking at it’s tire on the way past. There’s no way that thing would even take the same kind of gas the van does, and he’s holding a grudge against the thing for being so fucking heavy, so he moves on to the sedan next to it. 

It’s empty, and so is the gas tank on the next car. He looks down the line at their group as he makes his way to the next car, and he wonders if he can climb up on the front of one of these cars and sit for a bit while the others find the gas.

Since his mind is occupied, he doesn’t notice the nearly disintegrated hand reaching from underneath the car until it latches onto his leg, tripping him. He yelps and goes down hard, twisting around quickly to get a look at the ugly thing dragging itself closer to him. 

“Shit,” he mutters, kicking at the zoms face. His foot connects and he hears a crack, but the thing’s still coming. 

He slides his knife out from his belt, shoving his boot at the undead again, and he hears someone yelling, Louis, he thinks, “Harry, watch out!”

But the warning is too late. Another zombie lunges at his arm, knocking the knife out of his hand. He’s straight up panicking now, defenceless against two zomz and not knowing if there’s another zombie on the way.

He keeps kicking his legs, ripping them out of the zoms feeble grip, all while trying to hold off the other one that’s groaning and reaching for his face. Harry’s got his hands around the things throat, but his muscles are screaming in pain from all of the work they just did. He doesn’t know how long he can keep this up. 

He squeezes his eyes shut just as Louis’ scythe plunges through the head of the zom he’s holding up. The thing goes slack in his arms and something drips onto his face, but he’s unconcerned as he shoves the limp body off of him. When he reopens his eyes he’s met with the sight of Louis taking the other one down, pulling the few clumps of hair on it’s head before cutting cleanly into the spot that severs the head from the neck. 

“You okay?” the older boy asks, looking around quickly for any sign of more. 

“Y-yeah,” Harry lies. His heart is racing and he checks himself over mindlessly, feeling for any sort of bite that may have occurred. When a hand enters his line of vision his hands stop moving and he looks up, eyes as wide as saucers. 

Louis is holding a hand out to him.

Louis saved him.

Louis hates him. 

Or does he?

He takes the blue eyed boy's hand in his and is pulled to his feet just as Liam reaches them, Niall and Zayn close behind, worried looks on their faces. 

Niall pushes his sunglasses up on the top of his head, blue eyes filled with concern for the green eyed boy. “Oh my gosh, Harry! You good?”

Harry gives the smaller boy a quick smile, “Yeah, I’m alright.”

“You’ve gotta be more careful mate,” Liam says, giving him a stern look. 

“I know,” Harry groans, scrubbing his face with his hands. He’s exhausted and just wants to lie down, presumably with Niall in his lap again. “Please tell me one of you found gas.”

Zayn kicks a rock, everyone shaking their heads sadly. “None of the cars had any gas?” he asks. He’d figured that at least one out of the many they moved off the road would have at least a little bit of fuel. 

“Shiiiiit,” he sighs, “Now what?”

The boys are all silent, trying to come up with a plan. None of them really want to leave the van, the only place they’ve felt safe since the whole end of the world thing even happened.

Their attention is taken by the low groan of a zombie, shuffling out of the trees a few yards away. They all knew very well that there would be more around, because they seem to gather together for some reason or another. They all stiffen.

“We should go.” No one protests as they begin to head back to the van. Harry passes the keys over to Niall whose face lights up. “Fuck yes, it’s about time,” the blond beams, eyes sparkling as he flips the keys around his finger by the keychain. Harry bites back his own grin and watches, amused, when Louis comments, “oh god,” when he sees the keys in Niall’s possession and then the two start bickering about who is the better driver.

“I’m not the one that crashed my driver’s education car,” Louis mutters loudly.

“You’re such a reckless driver,” Niall retorts, “At least I can stay inside the lines on the road.”

Louis rolls his eyes, scoffing, “Yeah, because staying in the lines is so important right now. I’ll surely be more careful, with all this traffic and all.”

As fun as watching them going at it is, Harry climbs into the back of the van, collapsing on the seat after bunching the dirty blanket they had up under his head. He shuts his eyes and breathes out a long sigh, settling into a comfortable position.

“We can probably make it to the next town,” Niall comments after the engine turns over, “Might have a little left over after that too, just in case.”

“If we see any cars we’ll jump out and check the tanks for fuel, hopefully we find something,” Liam suggests and Niall nods. 

“Let’s hope we find something.”


End file.
